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HERE stands, in this year of our Lonl 
one thousand ci^bt hundred and fifty- 
three, OD one of the roads leading frwn 
Boston to Newton, an old oak, of rcmark- 
tble siie. and of verf renemble appixnaeb. It mMSores 
more than tventy-fire feet ronnd the tmnk, and, thoagh tta 
Bocient top is gone, there are tereral largo bimnohta which 
rise fifty or sixty feet into the air. Below are many im- 
mense knobs and knots showing where fbnner limbs grew ; 
and, at the base, is a large opening, throogh whioh joa may 
pass, and find yoorsslf in the hollow tmnk. When yoa 
han dona this, and hare thas beoone iap u ssed with the 
great age of the tne, 70a wfU eome ont agun, and admift 

« • • • 




tlie loznriaDt fbliagei which gives promifle of many yeaw 

j^ to ooino. 

Caofle heside the Oak ma, when I knew it first, a low, 
wwden hoildmg,— a achool-hoose,— which tooked as if it 
kdl been there a long time, so fcded were its shatters, and 
00 weather-beaten its aspect altogether. The rcry fathers 
of the town might there haTe learned their spelling-books, 
asd the New England Primer,— and their girl-pbymatcs 
aewed the patdiwnk there, long since worn out on some 
panddiild's cradle. But the school-house was not nearly 

00 old as the Tree. 

Three miles off, on one of the sheWes in the College Li- 
bniy at Cambridge, is a dark, ancient book, thick and 
square, and of an odd look, as if it did not belong to the 
pRsent generation of books. And it does not It was made 
tar % people who hare passed away firom the earth, and no 
thing man can now rewl and understand it Its title is, 
«« Uamusse Wunneotupanatamwe Up Biblum God Naneeswe 
ITukkone Testament kah wonk Wusku Testoment" 

Bot neither is the Book by hundreds of years so old as 


Andieds of years ago, an acorn, ripe, and brown, and 
^osay, the fruit of the Quercus Alba (White Oak), broke 
off bma its stem one frosty autumn night, or was throra 
_ by some squirrel in his play. It by a little while on 
•vfiM of the ground. 8oon ihe brown leaves fluttered 
it, and hid it, and the winds thai came and frolicked 

vidi the lesTcs could neter find it 

P^riiaps the fcoi of a deer or of a raccoon pressed it down 

thaearik Tbeia it sprouted, and the little thread-like 

aprad damwaid, and aideways, aad grew stronger and 

whils the stem stretched upwards and threw 





out branches and leares. By and by it was a tall, slender 
sapling, standing among many others, — white oaks, and 
white pines, and white cedars ; and red oaks, and red pines, 
and red cedars ; and hemlocks, and firs, and beeches, and 
birches, and all the numberless varieties that make up the 
rich forest-life of our New England. 

That race of squirrels had died, and other deer trotted in 
those woods ; still the Tree kept on gaining strength and 
beauty. Its shadow made a cool dark place in the sunniest 
noon of August, and many things went on there which those 
old gray boughs will never tell us. I wish they could, for 
the frolicsome squirrel and the stately elk were not the only 
dwellers in the forest There was no school-house near the 
oak then, but there were houses on the neighboring hill- 
side, and by the pond, — rude huts, to be sure, but still the 
homes where men and women lived ; and their children, — 
dusky little savages, — played their Indian games among the 
trees and on the grassy slopes. 

Young men, going abroad in the morning, walked with 
light moocasined feet over our Oak's deep-hidden roots, and 
tired old men leaned in the evening twilight against its 
massive trunk. I think its young twigs agreed with the 
south wind, to join in the mother's lullaby over the sleepy 
little pappoose, and nodded sofUy to the moonbeams to -smile 
on the youth and maiden who exchanged their simple prom- 
ises of love. The quick, hard breathing of the chase, the 
whining arrow, the about of the successful hunter, were 
fiuniliar things. 

But there came a day when the oak had passed its prime. 
Its trunk put on a cloak of moss ; each suooessive spring it 
sent out fiiwer young shoots; it ceased to grow larger and 
hi(^, and the woodpecker came ofWner to tap its bark fir 

I * 



,« it 

\ • 




t -■ 




IIm insects which aboiuded there. But still its broad, green 
top q>read strong and beautifnl| and the life-sap flowed 
wukbaled through all its reins. 

And now other figures came and went beneath it ; men 
with paler feces and a different dress. The ringing of the 
white man's axe, and the report of the white man's gun, 
hare roused the echoes of the wiidemess. English voices 
are heard on the hill-side, and along the wood-paths ; and 
from the higher grounds maj be seen the growing towns of 
Boston, and Bozburj, and Gambridge. Still the White Oak 
icmained, % stately witness of all these changes ; and still 
dM Indian built his wigwam near at hand, and hunted in 
Ae woods, and fished in the waters, musing the while, in his 
■imple ignorance, orer the strange ways of his new and 
powerful neighbor. 

Little is now to be known of those vanished times and 
people. Ilero and there, a name of hill, or pond, or rirer ; 
s sditaiy incident or two at the point of contact between 
llie departing and the coming race ; some tradition of strife 
or friendship ; a few arrow-heads of flint ; the buried two 
kmdred years hsTe left us nothing more. 

But| of the few fects that hare come down to us, this is 
coo. Somewhere on that hill-side beyond the old White 
Oak, was the wigwam of Waban, or <*Tho Wind.'' 

The Indians of Gambridge and its vicinity were on very 
friendly terms with the early English. '' When you came 
the morning waters," said one of the Sachems, with 
truth as beauty of expression, ** when you came 
the morning waters, we took you into our arms, we 
frd jo« with our best meat Never went white man cold 
ha^giy from Indian wigwam." And this mi^t have 




been said of all the Indians who lived on ** that oft-fre- 
quented river commonly called Charles." 

See how the first visitors were received at Watertown, in 
the spring of 1680. These were the Rev. Mr. Wareham 
and some of his people, who had come over from England in 
. the Mary and John. Captain Squeb has not kept his word 
with his passengers. Instead of taking them up the Charles, 
as ho promised, he has put them ashore at Nantasket, the 
peninsula which forms the south-eastern side of Boston 
harbor. Here they were "left in a forlorn wilderness, 
destitute of any habitation, and of most other necessaries of 
life." Having procured a bout, ten of their company, in- 
eluding their minister, Mr. Wareham, went across the har- 
bor to Charlestown. There they obtained a boiled bass, 
but no iM-ead, and engaged an old planter who could speak 
English to go on with them. With this Indian interpreter, 
they ascended the Charles to where it became narrow and 
shallow, and landed their goods with much labor, "the 
bunk being steep." This was a well-watered place, the old 
account says, and the tradition is, that the landing was 
made at that beautiful spot where the Charles bends round 
the United States' Arsenal in Watertown. The Indian 
name was in this instonce less pretty ; it was Pigsgueeset 

There was little sleep that night, for news came that 
three hundred Indians wore encamped in the immediate 

The interpreter was sent to assure the Indians of the 
pacific intentions of the English, and to request that they 
might not be molested. This done, they waited anxiously 
for the morning. When morning came, some of the natives 
were seen at a distance. One of them drew near, holding 
out a bass in sign of friendship, and the English sent a man 




with » biscuit to exchange for it. Thew English only 
rtajed % few days at ihia place on the Charles. They went 
hJk to the friends whom they hod left at Nantaskot, and 
finally made a Bettlemcnt at Dorchester. That same year, 
IwweTer, other immigranta arrived at Watcrtown. 

Camhridge, at first called the New Town, began to be - 
BrtUed the next year. It wa« originally intended to make 
it the capital of the province of MassachusetU, and the 
ROvenK^- and other principal gentlemen began to bii>ld 
Souses there. But neither then, nor after rt had been 
determined to make Boston the seat of government, do we 
read of any molestation or injury from the red owners of 
the soil. They seem from the first to have regarded the 
new-comers with a sort of affectionate wonder. They often 
Tisited the hooses of the settlers. Often they came on 
Sundays, and at other Umca, when religious or other busi- 
ness had drawn from home all but the women and the chil- 
dren Entering in his noiseless way, the Indian saw the 
mother and her little ones unprotected and helpless, and he 
wither harmed nor frightened them. On every side was 
what seemed wondrous wealth to him, yet he seized noth- 
ing, be demanded nothing. Only, in his broken English, 
he uked for the food or clothing which he needed, and 
'nniahed again into the forest 

Wibw), "The Wind," originally Uved at Mosketaquid, 
"Grassy Brook," settled in 1635, by the English, and 
n,o«d Concord. There his father-in-law, the Sachem 
Tahattawan, atill Uved, and there the tribe pkntod, and 
hunted, ud fished. Wahan, with Tasunsquaw, his wife, 
the eU»t daughter of Tahattawan, and some others had 
left "the GiMsy Brook," and ita wide-spreading plains, 
•Dd, going to the iOttth^Mt, had baUt their wigwams oo 

tho high lands near the Charles. There we find them on 
the afternoon of October 28th, 1646. 

An autumn afternoon in the woods ! Other words arn 
not needed to convey to tho mind ideas of the rich and 
vivid beauty which we all have seen and admired. In- 
stantly lives in our memories tho deep groen of the ccdiir, 
contrasting with the scarlet and orange of maples, and tho 
soft, golden hue of the nsh. The crimson branches of the 
sumach gleam amid the buff, and purple, and olive of biruh, 
or dogwood, or hickory, and our White Oak shows its yellow 
deepening into brown. 

A rustle of the fallen leaves makes us turn suddenly, 
and we see in the pnth several figures unlike the pale set- 
tlers of " tho New-town." These men seem, as they stand 
there in the glowing woods, to have caught in their own 
forms and features something of tlie Hush everywhere about 
them, and to have drunk in some of tho effects of the frost 
and of the sun. 

Tho first, who casta a glance towards the sky to see how 
much past noon it is, a grave and serious man, now in tho 
full prime of life, is Waban. His companions are Wampas 
and Piambouhoa, and perhaps Tahattawan. There arc five 
or six in all. They walk down the path, in their, usual 
manner, one behind another, in what we call Indiu] file, 
and exchange but few worda as they go. 

At a little distance they meet four English gentlemen on 
horseback. Ono of them is good Mr. Eliot, minister of 
Itoxbury ; another is Mr. Wilson, of Boston, also a minis' 
ter, — supposed to be the writer of the only account wo 
have of this meeting. Having saluted the new-comers in 
English, and bidden them welcome, Wahan conducted them 
into his principal wigwam. There were already assembled 



waukj peopte, men, iromen and childreni gathered firom all 
qnaiten, and waiting, with feelings of mingled euriositj and 
awe, to hear what message the white man's God had sent 

There was Tasunsqnaw, seated on the ground amid her 
idatiTes and oompanions. There was her eldest son, Wee- 
grammomenet, known afterwards as Thomas Waban, stand- 
ing, Mr. Wilson sajs, " hj his &ther, among the rest of 
his Indian brethren, in plain clothes." 

All being quiet, one of the gentlemen prayed aloud in 
English, as the ministers thought themselves not well 
enou^ acquainted with the language of the Indiansi " to 
express their hearts therein before God or them." The. 
Indians knew enough of the nature and object of prajer, to 
be aware that it was a rerj solemn act in which their Tisit- 
fn were now engaged, and they kept rererent silence while 
tbej listened to the accents of a strange speech, as that first 
prayer from Christian lips rose through the orerhanging 
trees to the one true God, the Father and Saviour of all the 
laoes of mankind. 

After the prayer, which was, I think, by Mr. Wilson, 
Mr. Eliot opened his English Bible and read from Eaekiel 
S7 : 9: '*Then said he unto me, Prc^hesy unto the wind, 
piepheiy, son of man, and say to the wind. Thus saith the 
ImA God; Come from the fimr winds, O breath, and br^the 
«pon these slain, that they may live. 80 I prophesied as 
he commanded me, and the breath came into them, and they 
lived, and stood up upon thefar fiMt, an exceeding great 


Now Mr. Elioi had selected this text, because of the re- 
•embbiiee whidi he saw between the dry bones of the open 
vnUsy desoribed by the prophet, and the stale of his hear 

" — .a... - Tifc 







then congregation (*' that forlorn generation," Mr. Wilson 
calls them), and thought of no other application of the 
words. But, as you already know, the name Waban 
means wind ; so, when Mr. Eliot translated his text into 
Indian, it seemed to say. Then said God unto me. Prophesy 
unto Waban, and say to Waban, Thus saith the Lord God, 
Come from the four winds, Waban, and so forth. 

To the Indian's mind this seemed a personal call from 
the Englishman's Grod. And who of us may venture to 
say that it was not such 1 Had not God directed the steps 
of both Englishman and Indian through those forty-two 
years of their lives, and brought them, the one from his 
home by ** the Grassy Brook " of Massachusetts, the other 
from the shores of the German Sea, to that meeting in the 
rude wigwam on the hill, with the words of His old prophet 
before their minds 1 

Mr. Eliot and his host are said to have been of the same 
age, forty-two that year. One cannot help contrasting 
them, — the student from an English university, and the 
pupil of the wilderness. I believe no description of Mr. 
Eliot's personal appearance is on record, but we may think 
of his face as expressing something of that '' most sweet, 
humble, loving, and gracious, and enlarged spirit," which 
his friend says he possessed. I seem to see his- thoughtful, 
earnest look of mingled hope and pity, as he stands there 
with his English Bible in his hands, speaking solemnly and 
gently withid, to those who as yet have no Bible. 

Waban is spoken of as '^ a man of gravity and counsel." 
See him now, standing before Mr. Eliot, with his long, 
black hair hanging wildly about his neck. . His erect and 
perfect form scarcely seems to breathe as he listens, and his 
piercing eye, accustomed to look &r over hiU and lake, is 


■: *•■ ■.« 





fixed OQ the speaker's eje, as if looking througli it fiur into 
his sool, to raid tliere the truth of what is spoken. 

The sermon lasted aboat an hoar and a quarter, and was 
in the Indian language. The preacher recited and ex- 
plained the Ten Commandments of Jehovah. He spoke of 
the oreation and fidi of man ; of the greatness and holiness 
cf God ; of the sins that need repentance and forgiveness ; 
cf the joys of heaven ; of the punishment of the wicked. 
He told them of our &viour, Jesus Christ He made all 
bis discourse as simple as possible, and Mr. Wilson calls 
these plain and fiuniliar truths ; but most wonderful and 
exciting they must have seemed to Waban and the others 
IB his wigwam. 

Having ended his sermon, Mr. Eliot was desirous of 
knowing whether he had succeeded in conveying his mean- 
ing, in a language so new to himself He therefore asked 
if the Indians imderstood what had been said. Tes, they 
nad, they had very well understood. He then asked 
whether all in the wigwam had understood, or only a few ; 
and with one accord every voice answered, that they had all 
vnderstood everything which he had said. 

Mr. Wilson states that a few words firom the preacher 
were more regarded than many from the Indian interpreter. 
TUa remark shows that a part of Mr. Eliot's instructions 
wns spoken in English, and then explained by an Indian 
who knew thai language. I suppose, when Mr. Eliot knew 
wen the Indiaa words for what he wished to say, he went 
«iy addressing himself directly to the people ; and, when he 
was oeeasionany at a loss, he called in the aid of his Indian 
*y Job Ncsutaa, I think his name was, a Long Iihmd 
t the Mohegaa tribe, who had been taken prisoner 
fan. a little while bebfa, and was now living in 




Dorchester. Mr. Eliot had taught him to write, and speaks 
of him as ''ingenious and quick to learn." 

But the meeting was not more than half over when the 
semKm was finished. The ministers next proposed some 
questions for the Indians to answer; as Mr. Wilson, in 
his quaint way, expresses it, << that so we might screw, by 
variety of means, something or other of God into them." 
After this, the Indians were directed to ask their visitors 
such questions as occurred to them. Accordingly, they 
made the six inquiries which I am going to tell you of 

Now there lived at this time on the Neponset river, 
which is south of the Charles, a chief named Cutshamakin. 
Bfr. Eliot had, about six weeks before, visited this chief 
and his people, living near Dorchester Mill ; and they, when 
told to ask for information, had inquired what caused the 
ebbing and flowing of the sea ; whence came the wind ; 
what was the thunder, and the like. 

80 the poet asks, — 

Whftt ifaiffi the brook ? What onolo 
Ii in the pine-tree's organ iwell ? 
What maj the wind's low burden be f 
The meaning of the moaning sea ? 
The hieroglyphics of the stars ? 
Or clouded sunset's crimson bars f 

But, although the questions of Cutshamakin seem very 
natural ones for observant savages who lived by the Atlan- 
tic and among the signing forests, Mr. Wilson was better 
pleased with these Indians at Cambridge, who inquired how 
they could learn to know Jesus Christ 

It was answered, that, as they could not raad, and so 
were unable to learn from the Book of Ood, they must 




diink tboat Him, when thej lay down on their mats in 
their wigwams ; — this, you aee, was referring them to His 
kw written in their hearts ; — and when they rose np, and 
went alone into the fields and woods ; — that is, where they 
migh see His works, and read what He has written in the 
book of nature; — and they must pray to God to teach them. 
*' Thou^ you cannot make long prayers like the English, 
jet| if you do but sigh, and pray truly in a broken manner, 
agun and again, in sincerity, 'Give me to know Jesus 
Christ, Ibr I know him not,' your prayer shall be heard." 

Here an Indian spoke. He said he had thus been pray- 
ing, a short time before, and had been interrupted by one 
of his companions, who thought it was useless for him to 
pray in the Indian language. Jesas Christ had been used 
lo hear Englishmen pray, and could well understand them ; 
hot it was not likely that He was acquainted with the 
Indian language in prayer. This man's question was, 
whether God did understand Indian prayers. 

The visitors toU them that God made all things and all 
men, not only English, but Indians ; and, having made both, 
knew equally well what was in both. A basket of Indian 
■Mnufiusture was standing m the wigwam. They were told 
to Mk at thai The person who made it knew what dif- 
ferent-coloied twigs he had put in it, though others might 


These baskets, which were used instead of shelves in their 
liouses, and for all purposes-fbr which we empby baskets 
and boxes and drawers, were very ebborately made, of van- 
Ms-edkred twigs, of com-husks, silk grass and wild hemp, 
and some were ornamented with pictures of animab and 
ioveni wroni^t into the kbric So the reference to one 





by Mr. Eliot, as a carefully constructed and artful work, 
was very suitable. 

Were the English ever at any time so ignorant as we are 
nowl asked <me. 

The answer to this was framed so as to encourage the 
poor creatures. There are two sorts of English, O ye red 
men ! There are bad English, who live wickedly, and so 
are still really ignorant of God and of all good ; and there 
are good English, who, though once wicked, have repented 
and prayed, and now love Jesus Christ and know His will, 
as Indians shall know, if they seek Him also. 

Two things in the Commandments were made the subjects 
of questions. What is the image of God forbidden to bo 
worshipped 1 Was it all one picture 1 The other was, 
If a fii^r be bad, and the child good, will God be oflfended 
with the child for the father's sake 1 

Then we find one of them asking how the world came 
now to be so full of people, if all had once been drowned 1 
This wouM lead to the story of Noah and the ark. 

One of ihe visitors inquired of the Indians if they desired 
to see God, and felt tempted to believe that there was no 
God, since He was nowhere to be seen 7 They made answer 
that they did desire it, but had heard it could not be ; they 
believed, however, that though men could not see Him with 
their eyes, He was to be seen by their soul within. 

This was a good answer, and the ministers '' sought to 
confirm them the more " in that belief. If you saw a great 
wigwam, said the Englishman, would you think that raccoons 
or foxes built it, or that it built itself, because you could 
not see any wise workmen who made it 1 Not so. Some 
wise workman surely made it, although you saw him not 
So should Indians believe concerning God, when they look 





up to hcareiiy and about them on this great house which he 
baa made. 

To the next qnestioii, — whether it did not seem strange 
that there should be but one God, and jet He should be 
here in Massachusetts, there in Connecticut, over the great 
waters in old England, in this wigwam, in the next, ercry- 
where? — they made answer. It was indeed strange; every- 
thing else they had heard was strange, also ; all were won- 
derful things, which they never heard of before. They 
thought it might be true, however, and that God was '* so 
big everywhere." 

The ministers were able to give a beautiful illustration 
of this truth, in the sun, at that moment, no doubt, pouring 
his golden light all about them. In this wigwam the sun 
■hines ; at the same moment, too, he shines in that wigwam ; 
he shines not only in Massachusetts, but in Connecticut and 
ererywhere eke. 

The hat question put at this interview was, whether they 
fimnd anything troubling them after doing wrong, and 
whether they bid anything to comfort them against that 
trouble, when they should die and appear before God 1 
They answered, Yes, they were so troubled, but could not 
tell what should oomfint them. Is not this a sorrowful 
anewerl They sin and they suflfer, and to them the Com- 
iMier ia not yet oome. 

After the meeting had lasted for three hours, the Indians, 
being asked if they were weary, said no, and wished to hear 
But it was time for the visitors to begin their ride 
The path ia narrow and not easy to keep in 
twili|^ Mr. Eliot haa four or five miles to ride, and 
Mr. warn haa even fturther to go, unless he will stop for 
m^ wiA Mr. Biot at Bozbuiy. 



So, after another prayer in English, they take their leave. 
At Waban's request, another meeting is agreed upon a fort- 
night hence ; and, having given some apples to the children, 
and to the men some tobacco, they set off with many thanks 
and fiurewelfai. 

It would be pleasant to follow Mr. Eliot to his home in 
Boxbury, and to hear what he said about this interesting 
interview, to kind, busy Mrs. Eliot, and to his daughter, 
now a giri of thirteen years, and to her young brothers, 
John and Joseph. Perhaps Samuel, and even the little 
Aaron, had sat up till their fiither's return, and heard the 
fervent prayers that night for the salvation of these wild 
wanderers 6! the forest 

It would be pleasant, too, to stay a little longer with 
Waban, and to hear what he and his companions say to 
each odier about these strange and excellent truths. Per- 
haps these are some of the things which we may leami in 
heaveui but now we know nothing more than I have set 
down in this diapter. 

•« Lei HI in the forest stroU, 

For winter '§ nigh ; 
And not the lone oharoli-beU doth loUt 

Or dreamer sigh, 
Sweeter than the soothing wind 
TeUeth to the trees hie mind. 

" The snn no longer, dasiling bright» 

The green earth soorshes ; 
But with mistj, mdlow Ught, 

As of goUea torahes, 
Mis OB eaeh gitgMinted tree, — 
Fitting lii^t those tints to sss^" 




lEt WilllDIRIRS. 


UK nnme Massochusotts, vhich hu 
been git en to our Hiatc, is uud to meu, 
m the Indian language, "Blue Hilb;" 
^^^ certainly a pretty derivation, and U 
pntboUe m taj. The Mnasachusctts Bay would meui, 
Bftj flf Uh Bine Ililla , the Huuchmctta Colony wu th« 
OobayafthsBlae Hilli; udthe lodiMM called the Massft- 
rihiiHi, wen the lodisoa of the Blue Hills. 

Tb tins peofde belonged Waben end hie conneotioDi, utd, 
IB it woald Men, eU the Zndiue wBodering between the 
Kcpawat rmr on the eonth end the Herrinnok river on 
&• aor^ and waitward froB the Bej ae fiv periu^w m to 


But this tribo of the MassechnBetts was not the only, nor 
eren the moet powerful, notioD found in New England b/ 
the tint European settlers. To the north-eaet, oa the 
Hcnimack aai its tributary streams, were the Pawtnclietn, 
■bout whom Uiere will be something to tell by and by. 

On the other side of the Massachusetts were the Wampa- 
Doags, under thetr great chief, MassoBOit. IIo owned Ci^xi 
Cod, and all the land between Massaehnsotts Bay and Nar- 
ragnnset Bay, besides many islands. Plymouth was founded 
in his domioiODs. 

The NaTTogaosetB lived to the west of the Wamponoagp, 
along the shores of Namgansct Bay iind upon ita islands. 
Mr. Roger Williams made the first sottlcment in their coun- 
try, and called it Providence. These Narrogansots were 
the most numerous and the most civiliicd of all the northern 
Indians, but they were not so fierce and terrible as their 
neighbors, the Pequots, or " Gray Foxes," who hold poe- 
eeesion of Connecticut and Long Isluod. 

It is not very difficult to remember these five names of 
the nations that preceded our forefathers in this pleasant 
New EngUnd. Think first of the Peqnots, with their fimr 
thousand warriors, who made all the other tribes stand in 
awe. Next, of the mighty Narragansets, with their five 
thousand braves ; the^ of the friendly Wamponoags, who 
seem to have boiHi the third nation in importance when the 
English canM. These had onoe oosnted about three thou- 
sand warriors ; and the other two, the Massachusetts and 
the Pawtuckets, each nearly the same number. But wo 
are told that, of theee nations, the three lost mentioned were, 
before the arrival of the English, much reduced in strength, 
and, instead of mustering their thousands of warriMV, oonld 
■how scaroely a tenth part of their ancient nnnbera. 




A dnadrul pestilowe had nged (rhd Nunpnaet Bty 
to tbe Peooboeot rinr, about the /ean 1617, 18 and 19. 
FIjBoath, we kixiw, was fonoded in the end ot 1620. In 
Aat Tidnhy only one man wu left alive, and all thnnigh 
the conntiy hnman bones were lying thick npon the ground 
JB naoj places ; for so many and so rapid were the deaths, 
ttat the liring were not able to bar; the dead, whose bodies 
were left to be deroared by crows and kites. 

FroB tbe aeeonnt given of it by the snrrivon, this pes- 
taenee wu probably the yellow fever. The bodies of the 
■id, tbey s^ became very yelknr all over, and oontinned 
■e afier death ; " yellow as this," pranting to a prment of 
tiMt eolor, which was at hand when tbey were deecribing 
tbe terrible sjckneaa to the English. 

It is said that a French vessel, which visited onr coast in 
1616, tar tbe purpose of trading with tbe natives for beaver, 
kd been wreekod somewhere near Cape Cod, and the crew 
«itlMr kjlled or Vvjit prisoners by the Wampanoags. One 
«f the KeDcbmen, supposed to have been a Pc^isb priest on 
Us way to Canada, refwOTed the Indiaos fbr their wicked 
Ihres, and threatened them with tbe displeasure of God. 
Tke seomfnl Sachem bade the stranger go with bim, and, 
tdtiag his way to tbe top of a hill, about which be had 
•oDeeled all bis people, — " See," he Mid, " bow many are 
mj pNffc I Has your God. of whom yon tell me, so many 
•sOaseY Ou you- Ood kill all these 1" 

Tbe wtatj adds, that when the Christian still further 
1 tbe power of Ood, and declared that far their wiek- 
I Ha mM destroy tbem all, and pn their land to 
r and n better people, they derided hnn as before. 
. net ftnrfid dissMa, wUdi btdn o«t almost immediately, 
Uhmtimitwm, in • jMr or two, by tbe eooung of "a»> 


other and a better people," must have caused tbe French 
preacher's words to be often thought of. We shall find, in 
the course of our narrative, that they were remembered in 
that region thirtf years afterwards. 

It is not to be supposed thnt these wild nations lived 
always as peaceably beside each other as iJie peqtle of 
these Now England States do now. The tribes about our 
bay wore friendly with the Waroponoags, and with those ra 
the Merrimack, far up into New Hampshire ; but were 
often at war with the Indians of the Kennebec and Penob- 
scot, whom tbey called Tanutines or Enstem men. The 
Wampanoags, in their turn, were afraid of ibe Narragansels, 
and the Pequota were terrible to all the others. 

It is rather diflScult to understand about tbe government 
of these nutiims. While there appear to have been a few 
Buperiw Sachems, among whom tbe whole country was 
shared, there were also numerous subordinnte ebiefii, who 
held a limited authority over portions of the tribes. All 
important qucstioDS were discussed in connciU, where the 
wisdom of the aged men, and the fierce energy of the young 
warriors, had, perhaps, as much influence on the decisions 
of the tribe, as the will of the Sachem to whom all paid 

There is no doubt that the supnnne authority was hered- 
itary in certain families, while at the same time fiKta show 
that in the foresto of New ^land, as elsewhere, Ulent and 
energy often rose to power. Wo may suppose that, in some 
instanoes, a few wan-iors, grown discontented at the service 
or the tribute demanded of them, would leave the immedi- 
ate vicinity of their chief. Sometimea, for the oonvenieDoe 
(^planting or for the sake <^ game, a oonpany would wan- 
der to remoter hunting grounds. There, by duress, tbe 




w the boldest, the most ambitions or the most elo- 

V^eniy woald eome to sway the others, and be a local 

his power and wealth depending on the nnmber 

prowess of his adherents. Some of these chiefs had 

hundred fighting men attached to them, some not 

e fifteen, and some conld command the seryioes of only 

or three warriors. 

It was in this way that every sunny bay, every pond, and 

^^^i^tierfidl, and neck of land, almost every hill, visited by our 

spoken of as having its tribe, under its own proper 

For instance, we read of Cutshamakin, Sachem 

Dorchester and other lands on the Neponset ; of Chika- 

or *'a House-»-fire," Sachem of a district on the 

'^vaiiton river ; of CSaunbitant, at what is now Swansey, 

of many others with more hard names than you could 

r. Tet, all these hard-named and hard-natured 

with tlieir tribes, were, as nearly as I can find out, 

great Wampanoag nation, and subject to the power- 

1^^ lAassasoit, whose place of residence was Sowamset, now 

^nen, in Rhode Ishmd. 

Yoa will think we have quite lost sight of the Indians on 

UU near the great White Oak, in Cambridge, whom we 

there, on that October night in 1646, to think over the 

^)«ds of the wise men whom GUxl had sent to them. 

Ve have not fofgotten them ; neither Waban, the Wind, 

his wib Tasunsquaw, nor their son, Weegrammomenet 

, and the rest of that company, belonged to the Massa- 

Wabaa was not a Sachem, and, indeed, there was 

wmpnam chief of thai once great nation, now broken 

and scattered, by the often mentioned pestilence, and by 

En^pMBls of tribes were wandering about the Bay, 

was settled in 1680, but they had no great 





Sagamore, like Ganonicus among the Narragansets, or the 
good Massasoit of the Wampanoags. 

We hear that Nanepashemet, or "the New-Moon," had 
been their king. His principal residence was in Medford, 
near Mystic Pond. There, on a large scaffold, six feet high, 
stood his house on the top of a hill. Not &t off was a fort 
made with poles, thirty or forty feet long, stuck in the 
ground very ck)se together. It had a trench, breast-high, 
outside <rf the enclosure, and a simihir one within, and 
there was only one entrance to the fi)rt, over a narrow 

The New-Moon, however, in spite of his fort and its tall 
palisades, had been killed, ten years before the English came 
to his Bay, by the Tarratines or Eastern men from what is 
now Maine. It was his widow who was known to our 
fiithers as the Squaw-Sachem of the Massachusetts. She 
had married a second husband, Webcowet, a great powaw 
or wisard, whose rank and importance in the tribe was next 
to that of the Sachem. Of her sons, we read of one as 
a Sachem at Chelsea ; another lived at Lynn. Both died 
about three years after Boston was settled. The queen 
herself moved further west, and lived at this time near 
Wachusett Mountain (in what we call Princeton), twenty- 
five miles or so from Conc(Hd Grassy Brook, where Tahat- 
tawan dwelt, and whence his son-in-law, the Wind, had 
removed to our old White Oak's hill, for which a name will 
be found presently. 

The promise of the ministers to visit Waban on that hill 
was not forgotten. They went a second time on the 11th 
of November, just a fortnight finom the former meeting. 
And now a great many more Indians have oome ; the news 
has spread that the Englishman has learned their language, 



I . 

(W. ^ .•-»••" ■ 


e &T>tn the Great Spirit for them. Piun- 
D tnd his people luiTe tKken tbe p»tb throngh finwt 
and iwuDp, — no war path this time,— and are waitiDg in 
WabaDia wigwam. 

Mr. Wiboa is again Mr. Eliot's companion. I do not 
know that any other white man went with them, but it is 
■ot onlikelj. They find that seats have been provided for 
them. I irish Mr. Wilson had given us a few more partio- 
nlars aboot this meeting. It is not, to be sure, of much 
importanee, but I should like to know about these seats. 
"Vfm they logs rolled into the wigwam, or piles of skins, 
cr frames of basket-work, or mdo benches pnt together by 
tlw Indians, for their chair-oocupying visitors 1 The Indi- 
ans themselves needed neither benches nor choirs. This it 
■riiat Mr. Bogor Williams says of their manner of sitting : 
*'0n any tidings, they sit round, double, or treble, or more. 
I have seen near a thousand in a round where English could 
aot Bt near half so many. Every mnn bath a pipe, and a 
deep silence they make, and attention give to tbe speaker." 
Another writer describes some interview where " the Indian 
Sadiem lay along on the gronnd upon a nut ; his nobility 
Mt aroond with their logs doubled np, their knees touching 
dieir ehin, and with much sober gravity they attended the 
interpieter's speech." 

Mr. Eliot and Mr. Wilson were gentlemen, and Waban 
was a gentleman, and Piaaboubon, in their Indian manner ; 
flo they have met with a grave ooarteay in their greeting ; 
and, after aittii^ down awhile, a prayer in English was 
in* eftnd m htbn. Then, with that oare for the ehil- 
^tm, nAiah was a oharaotenstio feature ot Mr. Eliot's min- 
irtiy. ha bqgaa to eatadiiie the wild Uttla ofeataret before 



" Who made yoa and all the world 1 " asked Mr. Eliot 
And his little Indians answered, " Ood." 

" Who do you lo(A should save yoa and redeem yon from 
tin and bein " was the next question. And the third, " How 
many GOmmondmrats hath God given yon to keep 1 " So all 
the chiklren, roe by one, were questioned ; and these three 
things having been ssked over and over again, those who 
oame htst found it more easy to answer, from hearing what 
Mr. Eliot taught the first to say. 

It is pleasant to piotare to onrselvee that scene. The 
mintsters sit on the " seats provided " for them. All round, 
in several rows, are the parents and other grown people, 
" with much sober gravity," and " making a deep silence." 
In the midst of the inner circle stand the children, little 
brtmie figures, looking with grave, steadfiut eyes np«i Mr. 
Eliot, and repealing his instructions in that wild though not 
unmusical speech. 

By the frequent repetition of these questions and aaswera 
in cateohisiug the children, and from the remarks and ex- 
planations of Mr. Eliot, the parents, too, as we are told, 
learned perfectly enough to teach the children before he 
oame again. 

The sermon in the Indian language followod, and lasted 
fix- an hour ; but, long as it was, none of the oongregatKm 
slept, whieh seems to have been a matter of sotisfocticQ to 
Mr. Wilson. This was the preface : " We are come to 
bring yoa good news fiwn the great God Almighty, Maker 
of heaven and earth ; and to toll you bow evil and wicked 
men may come to be good, so as while they live tbey may 
be happy, and when they die tbey may go to God and live 

Good news, indeed t Glad tidings of peat joy I Here, 



HRf ipt 

I r 

,^,.►^0^ ■'••^f,"rr.'::^ 


-a '•l'^*^ 

iWO I* 


oooB ■pin in th« world's long faiatorj, to the poor the 
gt^fil is pmehed. And not without eflbct j one of the 
heinn, wX leut, wu mnch overcofoe, ukl poored out 
■uj tetn. After tbe Mrmon, an old man praent 
■oddnilj aaked whether it were not too late for ancb an 
nld man as be, who wu Dear death, to r^ient or seek 
■fier GodI 

What an enn^ tX oompasuon the ministers mnat have 
feh on bearing this ! How gladlj Mr. Eliot opened his 
BiUe, and translated, for that forlorn penitent, their Sa- 
nowr's wonb as recorded b; St Matthew. 

"And abtmt the eleventh hour, he went out, and 
fmmi ^herM standing iiUe, and aaiik wtio them, Whf 
ttmnd ye Aere aU th» dm/ idle 7 The^ sap unto him, 
Seeatue no man hath hired tu. He taith unto them, 
€h ffe aUo iota the vineyard, and vhattoever iM right, 
Ikmt ahaU ye recme." 

ITflver bad that poor barbarian heart beard of each lore 
befae. No man had hired him till this the elerenth honr 
of his day, and gladly now did be tnm bis feeble steps to 
tke nnejard of the mercifiil Lord. 

Anotber of the eompanj inquired how the English came 
to £Ar so maeh from tbe Indians, if all bad but one Father 
«k fint 7 This was explained as clearly as possible, and 
other n»es t ioPe Mlowed. Among tbem was this, " How 
eoBMi it to paM that tbe sea water is salt, and the land 



irten anawered that it was so by the appoint- 
■eat of God, as strawberriee are sweet and eranberries 
soar, sal ittewpted to gin some explanation of the natural 
eaaMi of &• diftrenee; bat this part the Ltdians seem not 
m win to ban nn dentood. It most ban been not a Uttle 


difficult to address minds of which the ignorance was so 
utterly unbroken and profound. No wonder Mr. Wilsoo 
calls tiiem " the saddest spectscles of misery upon earth." 

Finally, one present asked if » man bad committed smne 
great sin, as stealing goods, and had not been punished by 
tbe Sachem, but hod restored the goods, is all well now 7 
Strongly and strangely impressed on human consciousness 
is this link that unites suflbring to sin. The Indian felt 
that restoration of stolm property was not enough. There 
was something behind that There still remainod the fitct 
of the theft. Thus, there straggles through this man's 
quostiim tbe dim, almost nniranally fbnnd notion of tbe 
necessity of punishment, <rfexpiatwn. 

He was told of the holiness of God, and bow sins with 
which men may not he angry, are en ofienee agninst Him, 
and need fbrgireness through Jesus Christ. Tbe inquirer 
hung down his bead, and seemed abashed. Perhaps the 
ministers hod spoken so earnestly as to seem severe. The 
ladiiui drew bode with an appearance of sorrow and shamo, 
and bltered out, "He little know Jesns Christ, or me 
should seek him better." 

Mr. Eliot comforted bim by telling him to remember 
thfl-&int, early dawn of morning, befbre tbe sun rises and 
brings tbe full glowing day. So must it be with tbe 
Indians in their knowledge of Qod. Thus, kind Mr. Eliot 
oomforted the humble fellow tu his fiunt, early dawn, 
where was hardly a glimmering yet of the Christian day. 

And now, tbe afternoon being spent, and night almost 
eome, a pimyer was made in the Indian longoage, by Mr. 
Eliot, who, thanks to Job yesnton and to his own untiring, 
seal, now spoke it ao well as to be perfeetly undnslood by 
the Indians present, as they afterwards told him. 



Dwring Uiis pnjer tbe Indiuu were mw^ nfiected. Otw 
«r the mat wept abanduitlj, so that his temrs dropped down 
oa tbe gronnd where he was Etuiding, and the EnglishmeD, 
■Ming his emotion, ooald not refrftin from weeping with him. 

HiMW Mgm to BoBton and Roxbury, where next daj 
eaae to Ur. Eliot's home one of these hearers, and with 
teui tM him his feelings, and how, all night kmg, the 
Li£m at Wafaan's oonM not sleep, partljr frtxn troable of 
■M, aod partlj from wonder at the things they had beard. 

I tihiak, on thia etKOongement, Hr. Eliot studied harder 
Am 9tm wttb bis Indian, Job Nesntan. 

Its porpla Md ; 
flaftlj, so tb« btotiiM Okk 
Bwing mnk of Ihander-atnki. 

•■ U akmragtb to Ui« TdJow tmm 
A dnuBj 1^ t 

Ntw H ftBdlT atoapa to Ulk 

* 01* Bet w^ la «M« er «M, — 

n« iMt* H^ ui. 

■■A Mk iHVM Md iMnnirin bftaf." 


uohb about waban the wind 

ABAN IS called a mcrclant in the old 
rocorda Ihnt nord mcrchont mnkcs us 
think of whorvca and wtirc-houscs ; of ves- 
sels arriving and departing ; of clerks writ- 
ing in gi-eat Icnthcr-bourid books ; of huge 
piles of bales and boxes; of reading and 
sending letters ; of insurance and banks. 

Let ss go to Waban's eonnting-room and ware-luHiso, 
and see his merohandise. On our way we may notice bis 
shipping, that oanoe drawn np and hid among the bushes. 
. A baric wigwam stands on the hill-side. A deer has been 
killed, and iiee oa the ground befbre the entrance. Fart 
of the neat will be sold to the English, and Ur. Edwanl 








Jaeboii, wlio stands looking on, has alreadj bai^ned for 

This, or sneh as this, I suppose to be what is meant 
ivhea "The Wind" is called a merchant Being a man of 
d i s ereU on and justice, and a near neighbor to the white 
Mtders, he maj, it is verj Ukely, have been a sort of agent 
be t ween them and his own people. Perhaps he went to 
Boston some tim es, to sell venison and other game, which 
he had eitlier taken himself or bought from odier Indians. 
SometlmeB he would dispose of his goods in Cambridge. 

I like to think, though of course I cannot know it with 
certaintjr, bat it pleases me to think that, probabljr, Waban 
walked about over the very places where I am in the habit 
of walking. In the garden of the house where I am writ- 
ing, were found, thirty years ago, stone arrow-heads, and 
pieoes of flint belonging to that departed people. I have 
■one of them still in my possession ; and, just behind my 
guden, the land was called Wigwam Neck. So, yon see, 
Indians were about this very spot ; and why not Waban 
luBself, whose home was not very far off, only two miles 
and a half, in 1646 1 

More than two hundred years ago ! And now, no longer 
Indians, with their bark huts, live here, but I, who write 
lUs in ny boose of framed timber, with its carpeted floors, 
and bsartb-mgiB, and fires of hard coal, and phnts in the 
windows, and boA-cases, and Bibles, and pens and paper. 
I dip my pen into the ink again to describe finr you a 
'Wigwan, dha oely sort of dwelling onoe known to Beacon 
Bin, and State-street, and beaatifid Jamaion- Plain, and 

Tbe Indins' honses varied in siae and comfort, just at 
my froB eadi other, aoooidinft to the means, industry 

UOmn ABOUT wabaw, tbi wikd. 


and preference of the builders. It has often been remarked 
that the Indians showed a fine taste in the sekwtion of the 
places where they erected their dwellings. Their choice 
was in part decided by convenience. There must be a slope 
to allow the rains to run off ; for the sake of wood for bum- 
mg, trees must be at hand; and it was necessary to be near 
some nver, or brook, or living spring. Now where there 
IS this combination of hill, and grove, and water, there is 
necessarily much of beauty. Still, I do not question but 
tbe mind of Uie Indian was pleasanUy affected by the influ- 
ence of the scenery in tiic midst of which he lived. The 
wm^ were his pUyfeUows, Uie stius of heaven bis guides, 
the forest his home, die river his patijway, tiie broad lake 
bis fhce of pastime. It is wo, the half-civili»d, who have 
lost tile savage insight, and not yet won die fuU Christian 
possession of our beautiful earth, who are guUty of indiffer. 
enoe towards it 

We work too hard in shops, we go too much to parties, 

we read too many novek and newspapen, we tiiink and 

talk too much of ourselves and of each odicr, our daily lifo 

IS too little earnest, for us to love as we should tiio serone 

stars and die flowing stivams of our all-bountiful Fadier. 

It IS Stated, by diose who have observed die fiwst, diat, to one 

fresh from die din of a town, die smging of biids in die 

«wintTr is, at fint, inaudible. Their melody is gushimr att 

•round and above him, but he cannot hear it until hiear 

hM been cleared from d>e roar and nrttle of die streets, and 

ilt t'Vr*^; " *^ '"'^ *^ «~"*7- ^•'hVthi. 
nnyr be htwnlly true; at any rate, Ae tendency rf our 

muj tod, ow canng rfHmt m«iy dungi .uperfluous, if not 
MM of dus "good" worU, oar present dwel%-plao6^ 

4 • • 


made fi»r qb by onimaginable power and skill, and furnished 
hj infinite lore. 

In our neglect of nature and indiiTerence to it,, there is 
ingratitnde ; ibr we know, which the Indian did not, that it 
is *' He who stretcheth out the north over the empty place, 
and hangeth the earth opon nothing. He Undeth op the 
wBlera in his thick clouds ; and divideth the sea with his 
power ; and bj his Spirit hath garnished the heavens." 

All that "the first-bom of the soil" knew, was, that 
somethmg within him was touched by the clouds of sunset, 
and the wail of the pine-trees, and the blue sparkling water; 
so lie ehose a pleasant spot, where such things were, and 
heguk to build his wigwam. A few slender saplings were 
fint fixed in the ground in a circular or oval shape, then 
beoty and firmly bound together, at the top, by strips of bark 
or skin. This was the frame of the house, which was in 
tbe tana of a cone, eight or nine feet high. The covering 
came next That was either of coarse mats, woven from 
raahes and sewed together with fibres of bark, or, in the 
better sort of houses, of large pieces, of birch bark, which 
can be readily removed from the tree in great sheets. In a 
little round house thus constructed, of fourteen or sixteen 
fieei in extent, two fiunilies sometimes lived. But many of 
llie houses were larger, even sixty or a hundred feet long, 
and thirty fisot broad. The door was a hanging mot, or 
alight pieoe of bark, which was lifted by those wishing to 
pass m or out| and then fell down of itself. After they 
b^gaa to deal with the English| the door was frequently 
of a blanket On the floor the fire was kindled, the 
escaping through the eentral part of the roof, where 
m hole ht that purpose. In the larger houses there 
three or fbv firasi made at convenient distances^ To 





prevent the smoke horn beating down, a little mat was hung 
* on the top of the house, which served as a screen against 
the wind, and when it rained this mat could be drawn down 
so as to cover the opening. I suppose the inmates had to 
take their choice between rain and smoke. This hole an- 
swered another purpose, tooj when they were going to 
leave their houses for a little while, the door was secured 
by a cord, and then the last man, who stayed within to make 
all fast, climbed out through this chimney. 

This, then, was the sort of house in which our "mer- 
chant," Waban, lived. Let us take a look at his furniture. 
There are, of course, no closets ; and, instead of shelves., are 
baskets, in which the clothing and provisions of the family 
are kept Begs, too, there are, or sacks made of hemp, 
which will hold five or six bushels. The bed, or sleeping 
phice, is of rude slabs, and raised about a foot from the 
ground. It is six or eight feet broad, and large enough for 
several persons to lie upon, and is spread with mats, over 
which are laid bear-skins and deer-skins. 

Tasunsquaw's household utensils consist of a few pots 
made of clay, in the shape of an egg without the top ; of 
some dishes, spoons, ladles and bowls, of a white, fine-grained 
wood ; some water-pails made of birch-bark folded square, 
with a handle or bail, and capable of holding two or three 
gallons. There is, perhaps, an English bucket, and, what 
we should esteem a great curiosity, some hand-baskets made 
of crab-shells. For omament| there are some decorated 
mats, two or three deers' heads, and some deers' feet, harU* 
horns and eagles' claws, stuck about the house. We don't 
hear of any bright feathers, but I should think some houses 
would have them. On the floor are bundles of flags, and 
iedge, and rushes, to make mats o£ 

1 1 

t^-^t ■ 



And MW for wliiit Wabwi mig^t ha^e to lelL Ur. 
Eliot Btys they found Bomcthing to adl, at mMrkei, til the 
jear. In winter, brooms, sUves, eel-pots, baskets, mate, 
tarkejs. In spring, fish, cranberries, strawberries. In 
Bummer, fish, whortleberries, grapes. In autumn, fish, 
cranberries, venison. The sale of the skins of animab 
taken in hunting was an important part of their traffic 
The largest game that traversed these woods till he fell 
before the Indian crafk, or the English musket, was the 
moooe, a huge animal of the deer fiunily. He was as large 
as our largest horses, and weighed sometimes fifteen hun- 
dred pounds. When not in motion, his long legs and great 
branching horns gave him an awkward appearance ; but he 
seemed a majestic creature when seen dashing along on a 
swift trot It is said that he could trot twenty miles in an 
lionr; and in Maine, where the moose is still found, one 
recently tiotted, with two men in a sleigh, one hundred 

miles in ten hours. 

He lives on the bark and twigs of trees, and in the sum- 
mer is continually roaming about ; but, on the approach of 
winter, he selects a place where his favorite trees are abun- 
dant, and where there is good water, and in these winter 
quarters he remains, if undisturbed, till spring. The horns 
of the moose are of great sise, weighing over fifty pounds. 
Moose hill, in Maine, is so called fma the fitct that the 
skeleton of a moose was found hung fost between two trees 
by the horns; the trees stood seven feet apart It was 
snppoeed that the animal, in passing between the trees, 
aocideBtally struck his horns, and, in struggling to grt 
nway» only became more fest, and finally died there, poor 

fcDow. ^ ^ 

Tlwlndiam had two ways of hunting the moose. In the 




summer, they would lie in wait for them on the shore of 
some pond or hke, and shoot them as they came down to 
drink or to wade into the water to escape the flics. But 
the favorite time for hunting was in winter or spring. 
Then, when there was a thick crust on the snow, tlic monso- 
hunter would put on his snow-shoes, and follow the track 
for days, till he had run down his game. Besides the 
fotigue and exposure, there was also some danger in moose- 
hunting. When the animal was too tired to run any longer, 
he stopped and prepared to fight ; and, as he could strike 
with his fore feet, or kick with his bind feet, hard enough 
to kill a man with a single blow, the hunter had need to 
use his utmost care and skill in securing his prey. 

The flesh of the moose was considered peculiarly sweet 
and nourishing. The Indians said a hearty meal of it ena- 
bled them to travel further than any other animal food. 
The tongue, and especially the nose, or rather the upper 
lip, which hangs greatly over the lower, are considered 
great delicacies at the present time. The skin makes ex- 
cellent buff leather, and is strong, soft and light The 
Indians made their snow-shoes of it, by the aid of which they 
succeeded in overtaking animals so swift When the heat 
of the sun or the warm rains had a little sofkencd the sur- 
fiice of the snow, the heavy moose would break through the 
crust, sink and flounder, and thus his flight would be 
impeded. The Indian hunter, on his broad snow-shoes, 
followed the poor animal's tracks, and seldom fiuled to 
overtake and kill him. 

The American rein-deer, called the Caribaiij used to 
come sometimes in the early spring to this part of New 
England, travelling northward again in autumn. 

Mote numerous than these were the common, or Yirgfai- 






ka deer, with brandied horns, and hide of a brown color. 
This species of game was much sought for its flesh and for 
its skin ; and the Indians had man j ingenious ways of per- 
8iia£ng them to Tcntnre within bowshot Sometimes, bj 
waring a stick to which something red was &stened, some- 
times, bj lying on their backs and kicking their heels up 
into die air, they attracted the attention of the deer, whidh, 
coming nearer and nearer to the on&miliar object, at length 
paid for its curiosi^ with its life. 

Sometimes a groat many honters united to driTC the 
woods, as it is called. Spreading themselves throuj^ the 
ftnst, in snch a manner as to leare only one apparent 
opening in their circle, they drew gradually closer togeUier, 
tfid, with hmd shoats, drove the game before thcuL The 
fri^^tened oreatnres heard the noises behind and aboat them ; 
only one point seemed still and safe, and thither they ran, to 
fiJl by the onerring arrows of the hunters lying in silent 
ambush there. 

Another method was, to set traps for the deer, by means 
of a pole jbent down, and a rope made of bark or tough roots 
with a noose in it It was such a contrivance as this which 
tiie pOgrims firom Uie Mayflower came upon, when, in the 
first month of theur arrival on the shores of Plymouth, they 
lost their way, and wandered in the woods till they came to 
a tree where a young shoot was bent down over a bow, and 
some aooms strewed underneath. Stephen Hopkins said it 
was to calch some deer; and William Bradford, when it 
gave a sudden jerk up, was cauj^t by the legt 

That must have been rather a pleasant part of the Indi- 
an^ life, when, about harvest time, ten or twen^ went to- 
gether, widi their wives and the children, and built up little 

of barks and rushesi and set and baited their 







traps. These traps were visited once a day, and not seldom 
the Indian found a wolf had been there before him, and had 
carried off the best part of the deer. Then a trap was made 
for the wolf; a foiling tnf with a great weight of stone to 
crush the robber. 

Among the other animals sought for their skins, were 
the beaver and the otter, and several species of the weasel 
genus. The groat warmth and beauty of the beaver's 
skin gave that animal a hi(^ place in the esteem of the 
Indians, who also admired its sagaci^ in building houses 
and dams. The beavers were astonishingly numerous in 
New England in those days, and many thousands of skins 
were sent annually to the mother-country. 

Now, beaver and Indian are alike gone from the streams 
they haunted, though a few traces of both yet linger among 
us. Many a district has a stream still calldi Beaver Brook, 
and there are even, in some places, remains of the dams 
they built Manamooskeagin, which means "much or 
many beavers," was the Vidian name of Abington, a town 
in Plymouth County, Massachusetts. 

Of the weasels, the skins most [nriied were the white 
winter coats of the ermine, and the beautiful brown of the 
pine-marten, once abundant everywhere in our forests, and 
still so numerous in the north, that more than thirty 
thousand skins have been sent from Canada in a single 

The raccoon was another object of chase, not only for its 
flesh, which even the white settlers thought not much infe- 
rior to lamb, but for its for, still considered by hatters next 
in value to that of the beaver. Of the raccoons' skins are 
now made many of the finer chaise-robes and sleigh-robes, 
so much in use. The IndiaiMi, though they did not need 





»< Bkins for this purpose, hud plenty of uses for them, in 
^ir bed-clothing, Kuts, pouclics and lutgs, besides having 
nead/ sale for what they could spore to the English. 
~g*ViTp!ii, Ktkl tnuskrats, and squirrcU, nere also found in 
9 ^ricinitj of Boeton at that tine ; and the Canndn lynx, 
1^s<l the wild-cat, " whose fatal eye, with tho yellow heal 
C«ST0city in it, compela a sort of shiver from us as wo see 
■ss the act of springing on ils unconscious prey, amidst 
a 1>roken rocVf, tho decnying logs and tang1c<l fii-s of a 
■"tijern forest." There, too, was tho stealthy bear; and 
» dreaded wolf prowled about iho new villages. An ohl 
*%«>rian says, " A man conid not halloo in tho night, as 
■^ did in a swamp near Watortown, upon (he howling of 
S**ck of wolves, fearing to bo devoured by them, but his 
■*^hbor8 thought he had fallen into the hands of Indians, 
^^ were torturing him to death." Such on accident mised 
^ »Una in all tho towns about the bay, on tho 10th of 
^^iteniber, 1642. 

-^nd now for the lions that ranged these New England 
Says the old writer, "Some people, lost in the 
I about Cape Ann, have heard such terrible roarings 
liaro made them much sghnst, which must bo cither 
* or Ihna, there being no other crcatum which use to 
^*», saving bears, which have not such a terrible kind of 
^^*ing." It is not wonderful that any, lost and wandering 
' %he strange and solemn woods, shoold suffbr from fear. 
**^ Tcry swaying and tossing of tho old trees themselves, 
^ the Digfat wind moaned and sobbed through their boughs, 
^4 something awful about it Doubtless, too, they did 
^^r wiM noises from unseen animals, and their fright made 
*^ lonnds mora alarming. Besides, the woods wera full 
*V Indians, who were accustomed to entice animals within 



reach by imitating their cries, as the howling of wolves, 
the bleating of fowna, the gobbling of wild turkeys, the hooU 
ing of owk, and the like. Some of the sounds may have 
been made by men ; bat, whatever the creatures were that 
mode the travellers aghast with terrible roarings, it is cer- 
tain that they wero neither "devils nor lions." 

The noblest native bird of America is unquestionably the 
wild turkey, which formerly abounded in this region. Mr. 
Eliot, yon remember, mentions it among the things which the 
Indians sold. The wild turkey is larger than the tame bird, 
and its flesh is of superior flavor. Tlio Indians call it " the 
white man's moat." Though these birds eat various grains 
and berries, and even young frogs and lizards, tho acorn is 
their fovorito food ; and, wherever acorns wero abundant, 
there ^e turkeys gathered in largo numbers. There are 
various ways of taking them without shooting them. One 
way, still practised in the 'Western States, is, to make a pen 
of wood, with a small opening below just largo enough for 
a turkey to crowd through. Some com is placed inside tho 
pen, and the turkey creeps in to get it ; — when once with- 
in, ho looks vp to find some way of escape, but never thinks 
of the hole behic, through which ho entered. 

In nets, spread beneath the oaks, the Indians captured 
"turkeys, gecso and cranes." Why should not Waban'a 
fiimily secure a great flock of them, under their oaks in 
Cambridge, in that winter of 164G 1 

The wild geese still go flying over us twice a year. In 
autumn, on their way to the south, and again in the 
spring, their " honk I honk ! " is beard as they return to 
their haunts &r in the north. The Indians used to deceive 
these birds b/ imitating their call, when the flock, lowering 






their flight or alighting, soon fell Tictiinfl to the sure arrow 
or the ready net 

The crane, also, is a bird of passage, flying in flocks of 
flftj or sixtj, occasionallj alighting for food. The cranes 
flj very hi^, and their note is loader than that of any 
cdier bird, and is often heard in the clouds when the bird 
itself is entirely unseen. The whooping crane, as it is 
called, is the largest of the feathered tribe in the United 
States, and is very shy, never yenturing near the dwelling 
of man. 

But more numerous than these were the pigeons, '' very 
delioate in strawberry-time," says one of the old authori- 
ties. Beedi-nuts and acorns, as well as strawberries, are 
the fcod of the pigeon ; and they go in flocks, not of thou- 
•aods only, but of millions. They fly with great swiftness, 
and the crowding, fluttering multitudes make the woods 
where they alight resound with the thunder-like roar of 
tliefar wings. Tou may be sure Waban had his share of 
the pigeons. 

Sometimes he caught a grouse, or *' painted bird," as the 
Indians mbned it; sometimes a "dusky-dotted partridge, 
with its low diirrup and quick pattering feet" 

Of course, Waban had his canoe. Mr. Roger Williams, 
u^ was a great^firiend of the Wampanoag chief, Massasoit, 
and well aociuainted with the Indian customs, says, '* I have 
seen a native go into the woods with his hatchet, carrying 
only a basket of com with him, and stones to strike a fire. 
When be had felled his tree, being a chestnut, he made a 
littk knise or shed of the bark of it He puts fire, and 
fiillowa the burning of it with fire in the midst in many 
pbesa; boils his com, hath the hoNxk by him, and wome- 
for a little fish. So he oontinues burning and 




hewing till in ton or twelve days, lying there at his work 
alone, he has finished his boat ; he gets help to kunch it, 
and goes out on the ocean to fish. Some canoes," adds 
Mr. Williams, " carry three or four, some, twenty or thirty 



But there was another way of making a canoe. The 
frame being constructed of the lightest and strongest kinds 
of wood, bent to an approved sliapo, over it was laid the 
bark of a large white birch tree, which is often found of 
size sufficient to cover the whole exterior of the vessel. 
This is firmly sewed at the ends and to the gunwale with 
the dried sinews of a deer, or the tough roots of the white 
cedar or sprucei drawn out into threads ; bars or cross- 
pieces are also sewed in, the seams are smeared with the 
resin of the pine, and there is ready a vessel so light that 
it may be carried on the shoulders from stream to stream, 
and so buoyant that it is safe among stormy waves and 

Let us imagine Waban in a canoe of this sort on his 
river, the Charles. He is in search of salmon. This shy 
and restless fish, the most beautiful of any that swim in our 
waters, travels by night, when the stars are shining brightly 
and all the world below lies wrapt in silence. They are 
now frightened from most of our rivers by our cbttering 
mills and steamboats, but they were once so numerous that 
three of them were considered equal to one shad ; and one 
Indian, in times forever gone by, has been known to spear 
a hundred of them in a night with a spear of one tine. 
Waban's spear-head is made of jasper, or homstone, and he 
has torches of dried birch-bark, which throw a flood of light 
on the translucent water, till every objeot in the bed of the 
river is distinctly seen. 



' •? 






Or, if H k in the uianuiy the pike is soaght, with hii 
dude-shaped head, brown back, and sides of mottled green. 
80 Waban and his ooinpanion glide along the shallow sides 
of the rifsri— for they know, though they never read anj 
printed book of natural historj, that in the antumn this 
conning and nnamiable fish spends his dajs in deep water, 
and his ni|^ts in the shalkws along the shore ; perhaps for 
tiie sake of the warmth, perhaps in order to eaptore frogs 
and small land animals. At any rate, there he lurks, among 
llagp, and bulrushes, and water-lilies, till Waban spies him, 
nod then he is speared and transferred to the eanoe, which 
^Meson. Itmakesaprettjpictttre;— the slight boat; the 
higbM, toich ; the wild shores of the stream, hung over 
with trees ; the still, dark autumn night ; the two figures, 
one ndsdessly plying the oar, the other looking steadily 
into the water. 

Plenty of things for Waban to sell, we see. There were, 
aote o ver, grapes, and raspberries, and blackberries, and 
cranberries, and, best of all, strawberries, so abundant that 
Mr. Soger WilUams says he had often seen, within a few 
milea' compass, as many as would fill a ship. And besides 
an these natural productions, God's good gifts to this New 
IZngUiyl^ there were many little articles, of their own man^ 
«fii0tnie, in demand. Moccasins, baskets, brooms, staves, 
cel-pola, mats, have already bera mentioned. Plenty of 
tiiingi to selL What, on the other hand, was there to be 
bonghll Much. Than were boards, nails, fish-hooks, 
chests, watar-paib, tdbaooo, hatchets, glass-bottles, iron 
polii blaaketay dotliing, a gun, biscuits, whiskey and dder, 
tiMNif^ Wabaa did not have nmch to do with these last, finr 

Mr. Biol's dnid iwl to thk merchant was on the 26th 


of November, of the same year, 1646, a fortnight Utor than 
that recorded m the hst chapter. Ifr. Wilson did not this 
time accompany his firiend, but he gives an account of what 
took phm there, in the same little book from which I have 
taken many of the particulars already rekted. It is called 
** The Day-BreaUng, if not the Sun-Rising, of the Gospel 
with the Indians in New England," and was printed in 
London in the year 1647. 

But, although Mr. Wilson was prevented firom attending 
this third meeting, Mr. Eliot did not go alone. Perhaps 
some of his friends from Roxbury accompanied him ; per- 
haps Mr. Shepard, the minister of Cambridge ; and, per- 
haps, another gentleman of Cambridge, whose name will 
often occur in the course of this history. I mean Mr. Dan- 
iel Gookin, — Captain Gookin, he was styled, — who had 
lived in Cambridge about two years. Ho himself says that 
Mr. Eliot was his neij^bor and intimate friend, at the time 
when he first attempted this enterprise of preaching to the 
Indians ; and we learn, from other sources, that Mr. Goo- 
kin so often accompanied Mr. Eliot in his visits to the Indi- 
ans, as to be called his constant, pious and porsevering 

Iliere are several more wigwams on Waban's hill, now, 
than when we first went there six weeks ago. In oider to 
hear more readily the wonderful tidings, they have moved 
from about Concord, and other phces perhaps even more 
distant There is an increased seriousness, abo. When 
the usual catechism and sermon were ended, many ques- 
tions were asked by the Indians; as. What is a spirit? 
Why did the English call them Indians, since they did 
not so call themselves befim the arrival of the English ? 
Was it lawful to pray to the devil as some Indians say, 







or nmst thej praj to God onlj? Are dreams to be 

Tbe aoewen to these questions are not set down ; thej 
had " fit answers," we are told. But the great desire of 
the natiTes, at this time, was to hare a place (or a town, 
and to learn to spin« 

The next Saturday night Mr. Eliot had some visitors. 
I think of him as sitting by his fire, his preparations for the 
next day's sermons finished, talking with his children, or 
kaming more Indian words firom Job Nesutan, when a 
knock is heard, and the door being opened admits three 
men and fiHir children. The leader is a wise Indian, named 
Wampas ; the oldest of the boys is nine, the youngest only 
firar years. Wampas has come to offer these chiklren, 
one <»f them his own son, to be trained up among the 
English. When Mr. Eliot asked why they wished thjs, 
Wampas said they would grow rude and wicked at home, 
and would never come to know Ood, which he hoped they 
would do if they were constantly among the EnglisL 

The othor two men were young and strong Indians, who 
wished to become servants in English fiunilies, for the same 
purpose, — that of becoming acquainted with Christianity. 
The young men were placed in the houses of two of the 
Boxbnry elders, but the reception of the children was 
delayed. Mr. Eliot must .have been sorry to send those 
little ones away again with Wampas, but as yet he had no 
place ready fin* them. He did now all that was in hii 
power, in promising Wampas that the children should be 
taagiht as soon as possible. 

But if Mr. Elioi was sorry to send back the savage 
liabiea into thor woods, finr want of a school finr them, one 
lluaig whiek he heaid at this time must have given him 

great pleasure. An English youth, belated in the fimst, 
in the pursuit of business or pleasure, had spent the night 
of the 26th November in the wigwam of Waban ; and 
this youth reported, that, after the ministen had gone, 
Waban instructed his company out of the things they had 
heard that day from the preacher, and prayed with them ; 
and, whenever he woke in the night, he prayed and ex- 
horted ! 

"Likely to be a useful man,'' hopes Mr. Elioi. 

**8e0 tbe wood-gronae ttnitliBg pMtv 
Then tarn awij, — 

The ohitmnnk's oomie ^anoci 

Amidat its play ; 

Woodpeeker, with tj9 aakanee, 

Cmdng work to gi?e a glmoe. 


Hark I the ft^etting blii».Jaj aUdaCh, 

Stnagera to aea ; 
IViaiblj the black aquirNl hhlath 

In the old oak-tree ; 
S^lj eraapeth the garter aBakab 
Making fcr tlie aheltaNd brake. 

** Uw in the beeoh the blown owl iili 
With ataring cje. 
Wondering in kia drean^ wila 

Whither to i^ ; 
Wliile Ur nwaj, thiongh elm and oak, 
Harahfy oonaa the rmTon'a CNak. 

** High vpon the atraight black eh«i7 

With ita froit he maketh UMny, 

'lappiag hia wingi ; 
Aa, on the nafgbboring dead aah limb* 
Am iMtlNj han^wk waldMi hiak»» 







nE Indians hod requested leave 
to occupy the whole of that hill 
on which W«han's wigwam stood. 
But wiu not the wliolc hind theirs T 
Ask perniiflsion of ibe English to 
plant and dwell on their own bill- 
tide, and beside their own lakta and streaon ! Wo most 
remember that the English had now been here tar mxao 
time. BcetoD was, in 1646, alread; nxleen jrcars oM, and 
Cambridge onlj a jrear younger; so that, aa the lodiaaa 
w«n not at all relnctant to sell their lands, most ot the 
ecmnXiy innnediatelj about these settlemeoU bad paned 
iDto the hands of the new-comer*- 

The pricca paid fcr lands aonnd amuin^/ small The 
vMa of Haahsttaa Island, oa vUdi the eitj of New Yodt 



stands, was obtained hj the Dutch for about twenty-lbur 
doUan ; and Rhode Isbnd, in Nomganset Bay, cost fifty 
fiitboms of white beads, ten coats, twenty shoes. When 
ConccH^ in Massachusetts, was settled, the six miles' sqnaro 
was bought for some &tboms of wiunpum, some hatchets, 
hoes, knives, cotton cloth and shirts, besides a present to 
Webcowet, the husband of the Sqnaw-Sacbcni, of a suit of 
cloth, a hat, a white linen band, shoes, stockings and a great- 
coat. This seems a £ur payment ; for, when a fourth part 
of a township of the common siie was sold by one English- 
man to Baotber for a wheelbarrow, it wilt be easily believed 
that it was of still less value to the notivea. 

Now, however, since the Indians had set their minds oo 
having the hill at Cambridge, the General Court bought the 
land (ram the planters, to whom it bad originally been kH, 
and gave it to Waban's company. The settlement must 
have a name ; what shall it be 1 Tbe.anthor of " The Day- 
Breaking of the Gospel," fma whidi we have already 
quoted, says, " This town the Indiana did desire to know 
what name it should have, and it was told them it should 
be called Noonatomen, or Noftaotun, which signifies ' re- 
jotcing ;' becanse they, bearing the word, and seeking to 
know God, the English did rejoice at it, and God did rejoice 
St it, which [leased them nracb, and, therefore, that is to be 
the name of their town." This tract of land, Ncnantam, 
then indnded within the limits of Comtwidge, was the hill 
at the foot of which now lioi the village called Newton 


^grimagea are made to spots ttr less isterestiBg. Be- 
sides the great ostnral beaoty of these highlands, &«■ 
which may be seen river, woods, spires, reads, dwellings, 
OtJlegES and gardens, and the diatsiit capital, and the sea, 









tiie MBodfttioDS oonnecled with the place lend it a 
diann. At Nonantaiii was began the first civiliied and 
Christian settlement of Indians in the English North 
Ameriean colonies. This was the scat of the first Proi- 
e$iani mission to the heathen, and here Mr. Eliot preached 
the fint Proiesiani sermon in a pagan tongue. As long 
as the crooked Charles flows winding to the sea, and automn 
warn shine down upon Nonantnm, and wheresoever the Qos- 
pel is preached, shall not this, that this man hath done^ " be 
told for a memorial " of him 1 

The weather was favorable to the new enterprise ; that 
winter of 1646 proving singuhirlj mild. " No snow all 
winter hmg, nor sharp weather. We never had a bad day 
to go and preach to the Indians, all this winter ; praised be 
the Loid," says Mr. Eliot 

On the fourth visit to Nonantum, which was made De- 
cember 9thy Mr. Wilson was probably of the party, as the 
account, supposed to have been written by him, uses the 
word *' we." The children were catechiiei as usual, and 
the sermon followed. The subject was from Ezckiel, about 
the dry bones, which passage seems to have impressed Mr. 
Elioi from the first The Indians offered aU their children 
to be educated. Questions were asked on both sides, as in 
former interviews, and instruction given, on various points, 
by the visitors; then, I'night drawing on," the parties 

The good elect of Mr. Eliot's labors had been partially 
diatnibed, during that last fortnight, by the eflforts of the 
Powaws. These were a set of people, partly impostors 
and partly themsdves deceived, who acted as priests, as 
physmans and as jug^ers. The religion of the Indians 
was a religion of ftar, not of love. They seldom olfered 


worship to the Supreme good Being, but paid great respect, 
with many outward ceremonies, to Hobamok, the evil spirit 
The powaws were the recognised agents in averting the 
miscniefii which this evil principle might bring upon them. 
The Indians were not idoUters, in the strict sense of the 
word ; they had no uncouth figures of clay or stone, liko 
the Hindoos and Chinese of the present day ; no beautiful 
carved images of fiur marble, like the ancient Oreeks ; no 
paintings, nor dolb dressed in tinsel, like the followers of 
the Pope of Rome. But they adored the sun, the moon, 
the earth, the fire. While they acknowledged the existence 
of one Qreat Doer of good, and also believed in another 
invisible being, the great door of mischief, every wind had 
its tnaniilOj or spirit, every swamp its lurking evil. 

The thunder spoke to them from the invisible world ; 
spirits came down in the fiilling rain, and were tossed about 
in the whirling snow. The south-west sky, with its sweet 
sunset colors, the south-west winds, softest and most deli- 
cious of all, the storms which came rolling up from that 
quarter, caused them to place there the chief residence of 
their prfaicipal deity. There, too, as was natural, were the 
happy hunting-grounds of the departed, — not in the north, 
whence rushed the icy winds of winter, and not in the east, 
where boomed the sullen Atlantic. 

We read that the inhabitants of the Mariana Islands, dis- 
covered in 1521, had not the least idea of fire. When they 
first saw it, as introduced by Magellan's people, they re- 
garded it as a species of animal which &d upon wood. The 
first who approached were burnt, which inspired great fear . 
of the terrible creature which could thus painfully wound 
with its strong breath. 

Our tribes were acquainted with its uses and its dangers. 


Thaa tbey reasooed about it ; " This fire must be a god, a 
divine power, that ont of a stone will ariee io a spark, and, 
when a poor naked Indian is ready to perish with cold, in 
tbe bouse or in the woods, often saves his life ; dresses all 
our food for hs, and, if it bo angry, will burn the house 
about us ; jea, if a spuk fall into di^ wood, bums up the 

The &nnal wonhip of the Indians consisted ohieSy of 
Bongs, dances and feasts, with prayers addressed to sun and 
moon for such things as they desired, — rain, or fair weath- 
er, or Tictory over their enemies, or recovery from sickness, 
or a Bueceasful hunting. There are, in the woods near 
Plymouth, two rocks, called Sncrifioe Rocks, wliich are 
covered with sticks and stones that have been accumulat- 
ing for centaries. It was the constant practice of the Indi- 
ans to offer these " Spirit Rocks " the homage of branches, 
as they psased by in silence. They never explained the 
porpoae of this singular rite ; but the whites conjectured that 
it wag done in acknowledgment of on invisible Being, this 
pile being his altar. 

Like other ignorant people, they attached great impor- 
tance to dreams. Bad dreams they considered threatenings 
from the Great Spirit, and any man who had such, kept 
■everal days of fasting and distress. Mr. Roger Williams 
■tatea that, is he was once "travelling to an island of the 
wildest of our parts," he found an Indian in great distress, 
on account of a bad dream, which he conceived to be a mee- 
■enger of his death. Mr. Williams tried as well as he could 
to comfort him, by speaking of the true God, of the orea- 
tioB, and &11, and so forth ; so that, at his departure, many 
IndiaiM bunt forth, saying, " when will yon oome a^in 
to bring OS soaie more news of this God "i " 




It was in obedience to a dream, too, that any individual 
assumed the functions of a powaw. If any man or woman 
chanced to dream that Chepinn, the devil, appeared to him 
in the form of a serpent, he related the particulars of his 
dream next day to his companions, who regarded it tis an 
intimation from the invisible world that ho must bo sot 
apart for a powaw. So they gathered together, and held a 
dance, which sometimes lasted two days, after which the 
dreamer was considered a full-made powaw, with ability to 
euro diseases, to influence spirits, and the like. 

Of courae, tho Christian knowledge imparted by Mr. 
Eliot would tend to destroy the influence, and to lessen 
the income, of these powaws, who received fees for their 
services, and whoso interest thus led them to resist the prog- 
ress of the truth. One Indian, who called on Mr. Eliot on 
the 13th of November, two days aftor his second meeting at 
Nonantum, had informed him that " some began to oppose 
those beginnings;" and Mr. Eliot himself remarks, that 
there was a great difference in the countenances of his In- 
dians when tlio powaws wore present, and when llicy were 
away. I suppose they could not at once throw oS the sort 
of uneasy fear inspired by these pretenders to supernatural 

Webcowct, Squaw-Sachem's husband, was an old powaw 
of some distinction. lie attended some of the meetings, and 
on one occasion asked this very sensible question : " Why, 
since you English have been in the land twenty-seven 
years, have you never taught us before 7 We might have 
known much of God by this time, and much sin might have 
boon prevented ; but now some of us are grown old in sin." 
He reckons, yon perceive, from 1320, when the English 
first knded at Plymonth. Mr. Eliot made answer, that the 

» — 





Englidi did repent of this neglect, but reminded them thtt 
abBj were never willing to hear till now. 

That old man, who inquired whether there was any hope 
fiir one 80 old, had six sons, one of them a powaw, and his 
wife was % great powaw ; but both, says Mr. Wilson, " were 
conTineed of their wickedness, and resolved to hear the 

But the powaws were doctors of medicine, as well as of 
divinity, pnctising all sorts of mummeries to aid the effect 
of the simple remedies with which they were acquainted. 
Tlie snake-root, the slippery-elm bark, the root and bark 
of the sassafr as, were among their drugs ; and snake-skins, 
and burning coals, if applied with the proper ceremonies, 
seldom fiuled of making a cure. 

One of their &vorite practices was to place the sick in a 
mde sort of oven, built of stones, and heated by fires lighted 
all round it; or in a kind of arbor, prepared by fixing a few 
poles in the ground, and covered with skins and blankets to 
exclude the air. Large stones made red-hot were then 
broui^t in -and phced on the ground, and water was 
•prinkled upon then^ with cedar branches, until the heat 
•nd vapor caused % violent perspiration in the patient In 
the he^t of this, he was taken out of the sweating-house, 
and phmged into the cold water of the nearest kke or 
•teeam. The rehOions and friends of the sick promoted 
his euro by violent dancing and sbging. Qieat reliance 

was pheed, in all cases of iUness, on the twistings and writh- 
i^g^ into whidi the powsws threw their bodies; there was 
DO mtenninioii of their strange mutterings and yellings, 
slrokii^ and hovering over the sick, until the per- 
fauned at the mouth, and tM down quite ex- 



Our forefitthers held these Indian practices in great aver- 
sion, and made severe laws against their exercise ; all pow- 
awing was prohibited within the English jurisdiction, under 
a penalty of five pounds to the performer, five pounds to the 
procurer, and to every person jn'esent the sum of twenty 
pence. The Indians were themselves well aware of the 
incompatibility of the claims of their powaws and the 
demands of Christianity; but, as they said, "If we once 
pray to God, we must abandon our powaws, and then, when 
we are sick and wounded, who shall heal our maladies? " 
Mr. Eliot, and Mr. Ghwkin, and other friends of the Indi- 
ans, also saw this difficulty, and were desirous of removing 
it by giving some among them a better knowledge of medi- 
cines, and more efficient ways of curing disease. But the 
time had not yet come for tiiat. The business now on hand 
is the new settlement at Nonantum. 

The Indians there were eager to enter at once on a civil- 
ised way of living. The first thing they did, after the land 
was granted them, was to make some laws for their com- 
pany. These laws were few and simple ; against idleness, 
beating one's wife, and the like. Wearing long hair seems 
early to have fidlen into disfitvor with them. Mr. Wilson 
says, no one spoke to them about it, but they discerned 
the pride and vanity they placed in it It is more likely, 
however, that they were influenced by a desire of imitating 
the English, whom they so greatly admired. 

Knowing, as we do, the result of these attempts at dril- 
ising the copper-race, and that, of all the tribes, only a few 
misOTable individuals linger upon our soil, it is very affect- 
ing to remember what their own hopes were at that early 
period. They told Mr. Eliot^ that in about forty years or 

M mrAsnni ard hatics. 

■0, womm Indiuu wvuU be att me EngUah, and in a hwa- 
dnd 7am all wmld be BO. Viin dream of eqaalltj ! 

•• Alw, tir lb« r TMr da7 li o'er, 
nNlr Bit* u* oat from bin and abora. 
No man ftr lk« the wild deer boonda, 
n« ploa^ It on iMr honting-fTond*, 
n« pak BBii'i an tingi In tfadr woodi, 
Tha pak aao'i wO Almt o'«r UMir Sooda. 
TMr plaawit aprfoga ara irj." 

Bat we are oatnuming oar namtire. Mr. Eliot, who 
bdiered it poanble to elcTata the race, told those who ex- 
pwed dieir hopes to him, that both peoplo irera one now, 
in two thingi ; the fint, that the English know, and 
and jn^jed to God, whi^ was not the case with the 
and the second, that the English worked, which it 
WIS not the Indian hatnt to do. 

The eftot of this morement towards einliaation, on the 
fart of the Nonantnm Lidians, was saeh that Tohattawan, 
Ae Ooocnd Sacbam, resolred to attempt something like it 
■ Us own imBediate licinit; \>j the "Grass; Brook," 
HadEetaqoid. This sacbom knew something of tbo Eng< 
U, who bad liTed as his neighbors at Concord, since 1685. 
Now-a-daja, we bare bat h'ttle idea of the difficultj with 
wUsh dw q»t fbr • new settlement was reached. There 
woa UIbb fcot-paths loading np and down the conntiy, 
kt wbea wider roads were neoeaaarj, the white settlns 
■Ht phnge into thidets, and out their waj with the axe. 
Om^ writiBg of this Tei7 joomey to Goaonrd, throng an- 
kanm woods and waterj awampa, tells vS olambering orer 
Um Insa, aid wading knee-deep in water ; of clothing 
■i ifch H— by wggod bwhsa ; of getting bewildered and 

lost; of lying in the open air all night, while water; olonda 
poured down, or driving snow dissolved on the hacka of the 
travellers, and they ncro forced to keep their wet olothee 
warm till morning with a continued fire. 

What a contrast is this joumey now I Taking oar places 
in the mil-rood train, vre arrive at Concord in half an hovr, 
without trouble or fatigue. Klany of the settlors who vol- 
untarily encountered all this hardship, wore men of wealth 
and education in tbcir native country, and several were of 
noble families. Very hard nna that first year for them, in 
their burrows in the hill-sido, for so onr author terms their 
rude huts. Cattle and horses died. Wolvea dovonred sheep 
and eirino. Instead of apples and pears, they had pump- 
kins and squashes, and their crops were small, so that they 
were forced to cut Ikcir bread very thin, for a long season. 
Yet, in their poor huts, they sing psalms, pray and praise 
their God ; and, with stout hearts and willing hands, con- 
quer the wildomcss, and better homes arise, and Concord 

In 1044, the Squaw-Saclicm, with two sachems of Wa- 
chusct, made formal submission to the English, and inti- 
matc<l their desire, as opportunity served and the English 
lived among them, to Icam to read Qod's word, and to 
know God aright. Thus, there was some previons prepar- 
ation among thcso Indians for the step token by them on 
hearing what their friends and kindred in Waban's oompany 
hod done. Mr. Sheponl, the minister of Cambridge, saya 
that Tahattawan, with one or two of his men, bearing wlut 
the Nonontum Indians bad done, came thither to Mr. Eliot's 
lecture, and was so taken with what he saw and heard, 
that he desired to have a town for his people near to thft 




The distnleraitediim of the English aeems to haye ttmok 
him. Hettring that some of his wnaps^ or chief warriorSi 
were opposed to his {dans, he called his people together and 
made a speech to than. He reminded them how the great 
Sach e ms only soa^^t their own ends, and would take from 
them skins, and kettles, and wampum, when they chose ; 
while the Englishman, not caring to obtain the property of 
his Indian neighbor, sou^^t to benefit him, and, instead of 
taking, was ready to give. This speech appears to have had 
some eifect; the sanaps' q>posit]on ccssed, and the Concord 
Indiaiis requested a discreet and actire Indian firom Nonan* 
torn to assist them in framing some rules for their obeenr* 
aaee. I haTe no doubt Waban was this adriscr, belonging, 
as he did| to Tahattawan's £unily. 

When this Concord chief was asked why he wished his 
town so near to the English, since there was more room al 
a distance firom them, he replied, that he knew, " if the 
Indians dwelt fiur from the English, they would not so 
mndi care to pray, nor be so ready to hear the word of 
God, but would be all one Indians still ; but, dwelling 
near the English, he hoped it might be otherwise with them 

It was in the end of the year 1646, that these Conccnrd 
Indians met They agreed to refirain from drunkenness, 
fitn powawing, lying and quarrelling, from theft and mur- 
der; Umj eipressed a desire to practise humility and indus- 
try; they resolfed to pay their debts to the Englishi to 
observe the Lord's day, to wear their hair comely as the 
Bm^do. Here are a finr of their rules : 

M No bdian shall take an Englishman's canoe without 

M Ko UUaa shall cone into any Englishman'a bouse^ 

hohahbrum; ^^bvoioiho." 

ezoept he first knock ; and this they expect fitmi the 

*< They shall not disguise themselves in their mournings, 
as fi>rmerly, nor shall they keep a great noise by howling. 

<< WhoeocTor beats his wife shall pay twenty shillings." 

They procured Captain Willard, of Concord, to write 
these rules. I do not know how strictly thoy were obeenred 
in general, but Mr. Shepard giyes us to understand that 
most of the Indians of tficse parts set up prayer in their 
fiunilics, morning and evening, and before and after meals, 
and seemed in earnest in these dcTOtions. ''With more 
aflfoctions," says <me writer, ''they craye God's blessing 
upon a little parched com, or Indian stalks, than many of 
us do upon our greatest plenty and abundance." 

Mr. Eliot was often struck with the grateful temper of 
these wild people. He had promised some clothes to an old 
man who brought his wife and children constantly to lec- 
ture. At first, the Indian did not quite understand the 
promise, and inquired of another what it was Mr. Eliot 
intended to give him. Being told, ho affectionately ex- 
claimed, " God, I see, is merciful." Mr. Eliot remarks on 
this, " To think a poor Indian that scarce ever heard of 
God, that he should see not only God in his clothes, but 
mercy also in a promise of a cast-ofl^ worn suit of clothes, 
which now he daily wears ! " 

A little before he had the clothes, the same old man, 
instead of asking questions, as the custom was, made a 
speech to the other Indians, wondering at God's goodness 
in at last looking upon them, and sending them light This 
speech was in the Indian language, with many gesticula- 
tions^ or, as the old narratiye expresses it, "with strong 

•\ ■•■ 





■ethigi of his eyes and hands," and, wlieh interpreted to the 
English, much affected all present 

We have nsed the woi^ "wampum," or, "wampum- 
peag," the Indian money. This word signifies a muscle ; 
the wampnm consisting of strings of little beads, dark 
purple or white, made firom shells. 8ome of the strings 
were throe feet long, and contained fifteen or twenty 
strands. The black or blue wampum was made of the 
inside of the round ckm, or quahaug ; the white, from the 
periwinkle. It was reckoned bj fathoms (a fiithom is two 
yards), and valued at from five to ten shillings the fiithom, 
the dark being of double the yalue of the white ; six small 
beads of the latter, or three of the former, were equal to 
one English penny. This money was made chiefly by the 
Narragansets and by the Long bland Indians, on the sandy 
flats and shores of whose territories the welk shelb were 
abundant It must have been rather a difficult thing to 
fimn these rounded and polished beads, fix>m the shells 
picked up on the beach, and that without any toob except 
sharp-pointed stones, to pierce them through the centre that 
they mi^t be strung. 

Li the town of Birmin^iam, Engbmd, are warehouses 
fimr stories in hei^t filled firom the top to the base- 
ment with glass b^ids of various siaes, for dolb' eyes. 
PhMluoed in vast quantities by machinery, and stored in 
such eoutless numbers, a handful of beads has a very 
trifling value. But come bade to Narraganset, and watch 
the Ii^iaB, who has, by patient use of Us rude stone knife 
and gimkt, with careful toiling, shaped and smoothed his 
woriL He values it for what it has cost him in time and 

With wuKgrnm the Indians made their purchases, re- 

kokanbbtuh; "rbjoioino." 


deemed captives, paid tribute, and even made $aiisf actum 
for homicide. It was their gold and silver, and for a k>ng 
time was current with the English merehants. For orna- 
mental dress, too, it was used, as well as for a medium of 
exchange. Thus we read of belts decorated with wampum, 
and of wampum bracelets and necklaces. Even the leggins 
and moccasins of the Sachems were wrought in various 
figures, with diflferent-colored beads, with which also their 
coats were gayly trimmed. It b well, perhaps, to remem- 
ber that the lore of finery b one of die characteristicB of 

And now we will close thb chapter with the following 
lines, describing the beginning of a new settlement : 

** But lisrk ! that MQiid, above the efttsnels 

And holtow winds in this wild nUtade, 
Seems paaiing stntnse. Wlio, with the laboring ais^ 

By Concord's grtsqr brook, inTsdes the wood ; 
Stroke IbUows stroke, — some sturdy head stttoks 

Ton anoiait grores whioh ftom their birth ha?e flood 
Untoodhed bj steel, — end, stsrtled at the sonnd. 
The wild deer snnib the files, ~ then, with a boaadt 

•« Yaalte o'er the thidnts, end, down yonder 1^ 
His antlers Ttnish. On yon shsflor height 
Site the kme woU; half peering ftom his dn. 

And howls rqpudless of the moning Ught*— 
Unwonted soands and a strsnge denison 

Yes his repose, —then, cowering with tflrigjil, 
He shrinks away ; Ibr, with a crsckliag isaad, 
. TenMyhsBdsekbowi»sadtiuniteslothsfmnl** 


t HICK VlAUliUl or alloute- 
D fire nos one of the pnncipal b»- 
chciDs south of tbo Charlca river. 
We first hear of bim m 1621 when 
he and eight other Bocbema lO- 
knowlcdgcd Ihemsclvca the eubjooti 
<X King Jamas. 
* In ths iprfaig of 1681, be went to Bortan, tbrt tottle- 
neat being ebont eix monthf old, with hit lu^ end 
■jiswi, and Bade Oeromor WJnthrop a preaont (tf » boge* 
bead of Indiaa corn. At that time, as m atated in oor 
iiBt diapta, h wai in oontemplatioo to build a fortified 
town GB the Charlei river, at Cuabridge ; but thta friendlj 
virit of the neben, and bia endest deaire to be oo good 


terms with his new nnghbors, rendered the magistrates Ices 
^>IK«IionBire of daogor, and bo less solioitoos for a fortified 
town. Tbe resolt was, that, in consideration of the greater 
adTsntagGs of Boston for commerce, the seat of gOTcmment 
was established there, where it has over since remained. 

Chickatanbut was of the Wampanoa^; nation, and paid 
triboto to its supremo chief, Massasoit He seems to have 
been a mior of ooosiderablo importance, at or before tbe 
settlement of Boston, with extonsire tcTritorios to the south- 
east Sometimes ho Ii?ed near the Neponsct, and some- 
times near the poods in Ifamaskct (Middloborough). Often 
in the spring be resorted, as did aaaj other sacbcms, to 
that part of the Zfanusket conntiy called Tehtiout, for the 
sake of tbe abundant stores of fish in the Tehticnt or Taun- 
ton ri?er. One old writer speaks of bim as Sachem of 
Weymouth, and says bis mother was buried thero. 

When the pilgrims in the Mayflower first came upon the 
ooost, this writer tolls us, there were some of tho company 
who, wandering about, camo upon on Indian gntre, which 
was that of the mother of Cbickatanbnt A stako was set 
in tho ground, and two bcar-skins sowed together wore 
spread orer it ; these, tho English took away. When this 
eame to tbe knowledge of Chiekatanbnt, bo oomploinod to 
his people, and demanded immediate rongeanoo. In his 
baraogne, he said he had socn the spirit of bis mother in a 
nsion, when the ton had gone down, and tho birds were • 
silent ; that she was grieved beoanse her grave had nflbred 
violenoe, and that she wiiiiod her nation to avonge the 
vrODg upon the thievish people who had done It 

The punishment of the spoilen was unanimously resolved 
npon, and the EngUab were watdied, and followed from 
plaoe to plaoe, till, a oonvenient opportonity presenting 



HmU; diqr ^m« ftttecked at Namakeket, between Eeetham 
and OrleaiiSy on Cape Cod. It is thought the "big oaptain 
of the Indians " was wonnded. At any rate, they all ran 
away, and the English, with the noise of the frightful war- 
whoop in their ears, hastily retreated to their ship, the 
Mayiower. This affiur, biown in history as the first 
enanmier^ took place on the 8th December, three days 
befim the efer-memorable landing of the Pilgrims at 

Satisfiietion was afterwards made by tho English for their 
depredations on the graves and on the stores of com of the 
natiTes, and there was no further trouble on this account 
The next year, Chickataubut submitted, as we see, to the 
English; and, ten years later, paid his visit to the new gov- 
emor at Boston. Mr. Winthrop gave a dinner, with " beer 
and tobaoco,'' to all the sanaps and squaws, after which, 
the sadieD sent away the whole escort, although it thun- 
dered and rained, and the governor invited them to stay 
longer. Chiekatanbut himself wore English clothes, and 
sat at the governor's own table, where " he behaved himself 
as soberly as an Englishman." This was in March. In 
April he came again. The governor gave the sachem a 
new suit of doihes, and the sachem gave the governor two 
large bear-skins. When meat was set before Chickataubuti 
he would not eat until the governor had given thanks; 
«aad ''after neal, he desired him to do the like, and so 

Li June, we find him again, in a diffi»«nt attitude this 
tinia One of his men has killed a pig bekmging to an 
Kngjlishmaa, and the sachem is required to pay a small 
■Un of beavw in amends, which he complies with. That 
jsar some of the whites stole com fimn him, and were 



oidered by the court to restmre double, while some of them 
were further punished by whipping. Not k>ng after, two 
of his men were convicted of an assault on some people of 
Dorchester, and, being caught, the chief was requested to 
beat thom, which he did. It was, we are told, customary 
among them, for the sachem to beat, or to put to death 
with his own hand, to which the common sort most quietly 

But this powerful sachem had died some years before 
our Indians began their life at Nonantum. The small-pox 
raged among his people in 1688, carrying off whole families 
at once, and he was among its victims. 

Cutshamakin, the first sachem to whom Mr. Eliot 
preached, was tlie brother, or the brother-in-law, of Chick- 
ataubut This chief also was subject to Massasoit, and had 
lands about Dorchester, Milton and Braintroe. lie seems 
to have been of more eonsequence, after the death of Chick- 
ataubut, than while that sachem lived ; and ho has a clcser 
connection with our hbtory than his brother had. 

Mr. Oldham, who was murdered on Block Island in 1686, 
was a resident of Dorchester, and when the governor of Mas- 
sachusetts sent out a party to punish the offenders, Cut- 
shamakin accompanied it as interpreter. He was present 
when they destroyed sixty very large and fiur wigwams, 
and above two hundred acres of com, and staved seven 
canoes. The Neponset chief did not eonfine himself to the 
duties of an interpreter. While the expedition was at Fort 
Saybrook, in Connecticut, he waylaid and shot a Pequot, 
and sent his scalp to Canonicus, the Narraganset Sachem. 
Canonicus thanked the English for their conduct, and pre- 
sented Cutshamakin with four fiithoms of wampum. 

This murder of the Pequot by Cutshamakin brou^^t on 





Ae bmnm Pequol war. Henceforth tliat fierce tribe iised 
efoy meaiw to kill the English allies of their enemy. 
These are the words of one who lived in those dajs: 
« Urns fiur I had written in a book, that all men and pos- 
teritj might know how and wh j so manj honest men had 
their Uood shed ; yea, and some flayed alirc, others cut in 
ineces, and some roasted alive, only because Kichamokin^ 
a Bay Indian, killed one Pequot" 

That fiunoQS war ended in the destruction of the ill-fiited 
tribe, who have nothing further to do with this our narra- 
tive than as connected with Cutshamakin. A naticm had 
•hready disappeared from the £unily of man before Waban 
and his company began to plant at Nonantum, and no war- 
noTy nor squaw, nor child of the Pequots remained in the 
old seats of their fathers. 

Cut sh a m a kin does not always appear to advantsge in the 
transactions of those days. He seems to have been as fickle 
as he was fieroe, and to have shown himself, on many occa- 
aions, less magnanimous and dignified than was usual among 
the sachems. Indeed, he was guilty of some very mean 
things ; such as drunkenness, lying and cheating about the 
wampum 'with which he had been entrusted by other 
■iwh e ms. He was an active man, and at various times 
the agent of the Indians, and the interpreter of the 

hk 1644, he was one of the Indians — the Squaw-Sachem 
was another, besides one or two others from Wachuset — 
who idieited the alliance and protection of the English, as 
■Mntioiiedinthehstdiapter. Certain articles of agreement 
wrere read, and the ten commandments of God, to all which 
Aey fiedy assented, and were then solemnly admitted to 
IkaalliaMeer the ookmy, as they had requested. They 


then presented the court with twenty fathoms of wampum. 
The court gave each of them a coot of two yards of cloth, 
and a dinner, and to them and their men, every one a cup 
of wine at their departure, ''so they took leave and went 
away very joyfully." In 1645, the Dorehcstor sachem 
was again in Boston, as signer to some articles of truce be- 
tween English, Narraganscts and Mohegans, etc On this 
occasion he acted as interpreter, as did also his nephew, the 
son of Ghickataubut 

And thus we have brought down the history of this busy 
chief to our date, 1646, when Mr. Eliot finds him, and 
preaches to him, near Dorehestor Mill. This is what Mr. 
Gookin, — Captain Gookin, Major Gookin, General Gookin, 
as he became in the course of hb life,— says about it: 
'' Within a short time after this first attempt, finding the 
Indians, at least some of them, inclined to meet together to 
hear him, and that God was pleased to assist him, and in- 
crease the knowledge of their language, Mr. Eliot sot up 
another lecture at a place called Ncponset, within the 
bounds of Dorehester, about four miles frem his house, 
southward, where another company of Indians lived, belong- 
ing unto the Sachem Cutshamakin. Among these Indians 
there were sundry grave and intelligent persons. (He does 
not name the sachem as one.) But, at Nonantum espe- 
cially, one of most remark was named Waban, a grave, 
sober person. God was pleased to open the understanding 
and affect the heart of this man, that be became by his 
example and authority a leader, and encourager to many 
others. And thus Mr. Eliot continued to preadi these two 
lectures at Nonantum and Ncponset f<Nr several years with 
good success." 

Not so much can be said in &vQr of our poor Cutahama^ 





Ida at of Wahin, yet the finrmer seems st times to have 
been sbcerely desirous of doing right There is something 
aifiBCting in these words of the wild Sachem : ^' I used to 
think I was well, bat since I hare known (of) God, I find 
mj heart full of sin, and this is a great troabte to me ; at 
this day, my heart is bat rery little better than ever it was, 
and I am afraid it will be as bad again as it was before, and 
therefore I sometimes wish I might die before I be so bod 
again as I have been." He ended by inquiring whether 
this wish wasasin. 

At another time, a little later, we find him opposing the 
desire of the Indians to gather thcmselres into a commu- 
nity, or, as they called it, to build a town. They always 
spd» of Christianity under the name of " praying to God." 
The chief^ in his anger, one day told Mr. Eliot the reason 
of his opposiUcm. The praying Indians, he said, did not 
pay him tribute as formerly, and neither he nor any of the 
other Sachems would encourage them to form Christian 
•ettlemonts. He became so violent in his manner and lan- 
goage, as he made his public complaint, that all the Indians 
grew pale with fear, and many slunk away from the meet- 
ing. Mr.' Eliot first coolly told the enraged savage, that, as 
hi was about (jod*s work, ho was not afraid of him, nor of 
all the Sachems in the country, and should persevere in his 
undertaking, let them oppose it as they might ; then, will- 
ing to soothe the Sachem, whose spirit seems to have be- 
eome a little calmer, Mr. Eliot reminded the Indians of 
Ibeir duty in reqpect to tribute. 

Ontshamakin^s aubjeots, then, and on a subsequent occ»- 
MBi praKwnced his aocusatioos false, and enumerated the 
partioukra of the tribute they had rendered. They said 
tiMj had given him twenty-six bushels of com at one time, 

six Lushcls at another ; they had hunted for him, they had 
killed for him fifteen doer, had broken up for liim two acres 
of land, had made a large wigwam for him, and fences ; and 
all this, a few of them had done within the last two years. 
They added, that they would willingly do more, if he would 
govern them by the word of God. The Sachem, swelling 
with indignation, turned his buck on the company and went 
away in a great rage. 

Mr. Eliot now perccivwl that the real difliculty with the 
Sachem was, not that his just dues were withheld, but that 
his subjects refused to comply with his arbitrary and exces- 
sive demands. When he raged, instead of appeasing him 
with gifts, tliey Imdc him labor if he wanted more money. 
In fact, it was not to be denicil that another power had 
come between the Sachem and his people, and that he could 
never again dispose unquestioned of their lives and property 
at his pleasure. 

Of course, it was a very delicate task to reconcile Cut- 
shamakin to this state of tilings. Mr. Eliot undertook it, 
and succeeded. That he did succeed shows his great tact 
and wisdom, and we think, says something, too, in favor of 
our poor chiefs good intentions. Elder Heath went with 
Mr. Eliot to the next meeting of the Indians. Cutshama- 
kin was there, with bhick and sullen looks. Tliey took no 
notice of his resentment, but proceeded with the meeting as 
usual. Mr. Eliot took for the subject of his sermon, the 
account of the temptation, in the fourth chapter of St Mat- 
Uiew's gospel. He explained the verses, spoke strongly of 
the sins of ambition and avarice, and ooncluded by warning 
the Sachem that a temptation from Satan was upon him, 
which, if he did not reject, God would reject him. After 
<* much conference '* with Mr. Eliot and the eMer, Cut- 




and tim difficnltj settled for that 

And DOW we must go back a little, to apeak of CutaluH 
maldn's ooOi a Toath of about fifteen yearSi who had been 
drunk and disobedient Mr. Eliot had observed that this 
hdy in saying the catechism, when required to repeat the 
fifth commandment, did so rery reluctantly, and obstinately 
rofoscd to say the word <' mother" in its proper pkce. 
When he was called out before the assembly, and accused 
of rebellious conduct, he did not deny it, but began to com- 
plain of his father, who, he said, would have killed him in 
his passion, and who forced him to drink sack. This boy 
understood English, it seems, and Mr. Wilson talked widi 
him, but without much effect The fine for drunkenness 
was ten shillings, which the father offered to pay for him, 
but he would not accept it 

At the next lecture, when the other exercises were fin* 
iahed, he was in the same mind. Tlien the ministers ex- 
liortad the father to confess his sins, and so remove that 
■tumbling-block from the way of his son. Cutshamakin 
fireely ow^ed his &ults, and professed himself sorrowful for 
tbem. At first this did not soflen the son, but when the 
other Indians q)oke to him affectionately, and Mr. \Vilson 
had again talked to him, the stubborn heart humbled itself; 
bo confessed all, and, taking his father by the hand, in- 
livated him to forgive him ; at which his father, vehement 
in efeiything, burst forth into great weeping. The youth 
Bade the same acknowledgment to his mother, who also 
wtpif as did many others ; and then, says Mr. Eliot, in the 
letter from whkdi we quote, '< we went to prayer, in all 
whkk time Cutshamakin wept, so that when we had done, 
lim boaid he stood upon was all dropped with his tears.'* 



When Cutshamakin and the others entered into their 
treaty with the English, in 1644, they were asked, among 
other things, if they would agree not to do any unnecessary 
work on the Sabbath day, especially within the limits of 
Christian towns. yes, they said ; they would agree to 
that. It would be easy for them. They Imd not much to 
do on any day, and could well enough take their rest on 
that day. They met with some practical difficulties, how- 
ever, in keeping the Sabbath. As they told Mr. Eliot, if 
they went to the English meeting, they could not under- 
stand ; if they met together among themselves, there was 
no one to teach. Mr. Eliot's advice was, that they should 
meet reguhirly ; that the wisest among them should pray 
and teach what he could; when he had done, another 
should take his place, and so on. After that, they might 
propose questions on religious subjects, and, if they wore 
unable to solve them, tliey must remember to ask him the 
next time he came. 

One Sunday morning, the wife of Cutshamakin went to 
fetch water, and, meeting with some other women, she 
stopped to talk of <' worldly matters." Nnhanton, a sober, 
good man, was to teach that day. lie ha«l heard of this 
incident of the morning, and spoke of it in public, reprov- 
ing it as sin. The Sachem's wife excused herself by say- 
ing that it was early in the morning, and in private, and 
did not scruple to tell Nahanton that he had done mora 
harm than she had, by making so mudi talk, about a trifling 
matter, in the public meeting. In the end, it was agreed to 
refer the ease to Mr. Eliot, who does not tell us how he 

One Sunday, towards night, two strangers came to a 
wigwam (this happened at Nonantum, and the wigwam was 


■aft ■ 


1 'k. 




Wabtn'i), and lold the owner that thej had chased a rac- 
coon into a hoDow troe about a mile off, and, if Wabon would 
go with thcnii the animal might be taken. Waban, who, 
perhapa, was not rtrj well prepared to entertain atrongen^ 
and was willing to secure such an addition to the erening 
meal, sent two of his men, who felled the tree and brought 
the Fsocoon. Some of the Nonantum Indians thought this 
m Tidation of the Sabbath, and consulted Mr. Eliot about it 
on the next lecture daj. 

Another time, their public meeting held so long, that the 
fire in one of the wigwams was almost out, on the return 
of the &mil J ; the man of the house, as ho sat by the firo- 
phMSo, took his hatchet and split a little drj piece of wood, 
and 80 kindkd his fire. This, too, was reported on the next 
lecture day. 

The Narragansets were never friendly towards the teach* 
ingi of Christianity. Now and then an individual would 
listen to the subject with interest, but, on the whole, Mr. 
Boger Williams, who lived among them, was not very sue- 
eessfoL In talking one day with one of this tribe, Mr. 
Elioi asked^ him why he had not kamed of llr. Williams. 
The man soberly answered, that his people did not caie to 
learn of an Englishman who wont out and worked upon the 
Sabbath. We have not time here to speak of the history 
of Mr. Williama; of all the kind acts he rendered the coh>- 
niea; of his friendships with the Indians ; and of his many 
exoelknt qnalitiea, and real piety. The anecdote above 
■hows how a good man may sometimes have an injurious 
inflneaeey if he em in any part of his opmions and conduct 
Sbpaeially is such inoonsistency hurtful to children and 
other ignorant persons, who very quickly notice it, and wlio 




do not SO readily perceive the real goodness that may be 

In a little book, printed in London in 1648, it is stated 
that an Indian, seeing a white man fell a tree on Sunday, 
said to him. Do you not know that this is the Lord*s day 
here in Massachusetts ? Why break you God's day 1 The 
same Indian, coming into a house where a man and his wife 
were chiding, and being told to sit down, he was welcome, 
answered no, he would not stay there ; Oed did not dwell 
in that house, but Hobamok (that is the evil spirit) was 
there ; and so departed. 

Mr. Eliot kept up the practice of encouraging the Indiana 
to ask questions of him at their public meetmgs. About this 
time they wanted to know whither their little children 
went when they died, seeing they have not sinned. This 
questkm gave occasion to teach them about the sin inherent 
in our fiillen nature, and the lost estate of all of human- 
kind ; and also to explain to them the covenant of redemp- 
tion, and how God, when he oliooses the parents to be his 
servants, chooses all their children to be so also, unless 
the children obstinately roftise His grace granted to them ; 
''whk^h doctrine was exceedingly gratefbl unto them.*' 

Some of the seoflbig objections made by the opposing 
Indians were repeated at one of the meetings where Mr. 
Eliot was present <^ They ask," sakl the speaker, '< what 
we gain by praying. They say we go naked still ; we are 
as poor as they ; their com is as good as ours ; they take 
more pleasure ; if they saw that we got anything by pray- 
ing to God, they would pray too." The answer of their 
teacher to these sneering remarks was awaited with great 
interest The praying Indians wanted some argument with 
which to silence their opposers. Mr. Eliot, who was seldom 





st & loss cither Tor ad ansvrer or an illnstrution, told tbetn 
that God gives His creatures tiro sorts of good things. 
One sort, little ones, like the little finger ; tl)0 other sort, 
great ones, like the thumb. The littlo mercies arc riches, 
as clothes, footl, sack,houscs, cattle, pleasures; littlo thing 
which serve the body a little while in tliis life. The great 
inerocs are, wisdom, knowle«]gfi of God, eternal life. Now, 
though God do not bestow the little mercies, He gives that 
which is far bettor, which wicked Indians cannot see nor 

Ho then reminded them how, when Foxun, the Hohegan 
counsellor, reputed the wisest Indian in tho country, bod 
visited them, he had not a word to say except on such 
poor subjects ns war and hunting ; while they, the pray- 
ing Indians, could speak of God, and Christ, and Ilcaren. 
Mr. Eliot showed them, moreover, that the words of the 
opposing Indiana were not true in any sense ; since the 
Christians had more clothes than the others, and if they 
obeyed the commandment to work six days, they would 
be even better off with clothes, houses, and "other im- 

Mr. Shcpard, of Cambridge, in an interesting letter writ- 
ten about this time, has given a list of questions asked by 
ibe Indians daring the winter. Ilis informant was Mr. 
Edwsid Jackson, of that family of Joeksons, I suppose, 
wbo wers the first settlers within the present limits of 

1. Why are some men so bad that they hate those men 
thiA would teach them good things 1 

2. Whether the devil or man were mode first 1 

S. If ft ■« alwald be iooloted in iron a foot thick, and 



thrown into fire, what would become of his soul, could the 
soul come forth or not 1 

4. IIow long is it before men believe, tliat hove the word 
of God made known to them 7 

6. How may one know who are good, and who are 

6. Why did not God give all men good hearts, tlmt they 
might be good I — and why did not God kill tho devil, that 
made all men so bad, God having all power ? 

The Indians often expressed curiosity about the causes 
of natural phenomena, and mode inquiries concerning 
sun, moon, stars, earth, sea, lightning, caithquakes, I 
find only one instance of a disrespectful question ad- 
dressed to Mr. Eliot. There was an idle, drunken 
Indian, named George, wlio called out, " ^Vho made 
sack, Mr. Eliot, who made sackl" but the other silenced 
him, saying, this was a pappoosc [a childish] question. 
Mr. Eliot, who was not a man to take liberties with, 
spoke to bim with such dignity that he was ashamed of 

This same George afterwards killed a cow in Cam- 
bridge, and sold it at the college for a moose. When 
first found out, he was guilty of many falsehoods ; but, 
being admonished at the meeting, finally confessed the 

In our next chapter we shall see what the Nonantum 
Indians were doing in the year 1647. 

"The woods — I lolemn are tlM bonndlcM woods 
or the grMt matern workl, when day dediiHl, 
Asd louder (oundi the roll ordUtADt Booda, 
Mora deqi tin nutliog of the anolait piiM i 


VhM Amm fftthH* «■ Ik •(% air, 
Aad BTMiT MM o'er awT k>r to bnti. 

Ami m(U b H »r tht hart la bwr 
n* HliM ud bndw or th« •oUtad*^*' 




\N tho 8d of March, 1G47, 
f Mr. Slicpard, the minister 
Cambridgo, Prcsiiletit 
' Dunstcr, of tho College, 
Mr. Wilson, onr old fi-iond ' 
. ofBoBton,Mr.Ancn,ofDcd- 
^ ham, and many other Eng- 
lish Christians wcro present 
J at the Nonnntum lecture. It hod 
^- occurred to some of the gontlc- 
!!), that it jrould be well to ad- 
dross, moro directly timii bctwo, tbo 
roindit of the Indian women. It 
may bo that they thought it tho 
moro necessary to tuko some special 
notice of this part of their congro- 
gntion, sinco the Indian nations, 
like all other savages, in all times 
and plaoos, were ia tho habit of treating woman with a sort 
of eoDtomptaoofl nogloct, if not with absolute cruelty. On . 
ber dcTolred tho hardest port of the wwk that wit done. 
It was hers to till the gronnd, to dig, to bow, to loap, to 
pound the parched oon, to di/ the reniaon and fish, to 



earrjr homo tho gimo that hor hnsbond killed, to hew the 
wood and draw tho water, to build the wigwam, and in 
limea of joamojing to earrj its poles upon her shouMoni, 
and all this besides her own proper duties of oooking the 
fixxl and taking eare of tho ehildren. The Indian roan 
considered all toil beneath him. Hunting and war wera 
his occupations, and, it must bo owned, tliero were some- 
times 80 exhausting as to render a long period of repose 

Whatever maj have influenced the ministers at this 
March meeting, we learn that thej, << considering that the 
souls of the women might stand iu need of answer to scru- 
ples," desired them to propound any question through their 
husbands or the interpreter. The squaws do not appear to 
have been backward in availing themselves of this privilege. 
The wife of Wampas immediately asked whether she prayed 
when her husband did, if she spoke not, yet liked what he 
said, and her heart went with it? 

Another woman, the wife of Totlierswamp, stated that 
befiNre her husband prayed, he used to get very angry ; 
Aat sinoe he had begun to pray» "ho was not angry so 
Bttch, but only a little angry." It was supposed she 
meant to inquire whether a husband who had not overoome 
his passionate temper, was in a &t state of mind to pray 
with his wife Mr. Shepard thinks, while she wished to 
convey a delicata reproof to her husband, she also intended 
to testify to his nnprovement 

Oaee a squaw adced whether she might not go and pray 
IB some private place in the woods, when her husband was 
BOl at hoBSi because she was ashamed to pray in the wig- 
bsfim company; and another wished to understand 





• ^1 

how, if Ood loves those who turn to him, it comes to psss 
that men arc any more afflicted after they turn to God. 

An old Indian brought forward the case of his unruly, 
disobedient son, who would not hear God's word, nor for- 
sake drunkenness. This rebellious son was present, and 
Mr. Wilson, knowing that he understood English, spoke 
very severely about the sin of drunkenness. The young 
desperado^ as Mr. Shepard calls him. instead of humbling 
himself, broke out, as soon as Mr. Wilson's speech was 
ended, into a loud and contemptuous expression : " S<A ! " 
which the English took no notice of, but ''left the wwrd 
with him, which they knew would take its efTcct one way or 
other upon him." Significant language ! worthy of our 
eonsidcration also ; the word which shall take its effect one 
way or other upon us ! 

Tou will be sorry to hear that Wampas so fer foigot his 
Christianity as to beat his wife. The Indians had made a 
law against this, and imposed a fine of* fire sliillings for 
each offence. Wampas was publicly accused before the 
whole community, not at this lilarch meeting, but about 
this time, on an occasion when the governor and many 
English were present lie confessed the act fully; did 
not blame his wife at all, which is rather to his credit, 
and wept very penitently. The fine was exacted, and 

We hear this year of much scoffing among tho powaws. 
A sober Indian going up the country, prayed as his manner 
was, and talked to them of religion, but they mocked and 
called one of his sons Jehovah, tho other Jesus Christ 
There were indications of a smothered hostility on the part 
of powaws and sachems, towards the new religion, which 
was prevented from breaking out into open violence, only 





bj die respect felt finr the growing power of the English. 
!nie profiesskm of Christianity was not without its dangers, 
it is eridcnt ; and wo get a glimpse here and there of a 
great powaw-mceting, hold far away in the recesses of some 
gloomy swamp. There, in the abode of the fox and the 
snake, where the damp smell of decaying vegetation fills 
the ni^t air. and the slow, dismal notes of the horned-owl 
soimd ominoas in the startled ear. these deluded men keep 
Ihrir strange festival. Whole days and nights they main- 
tain their imcoath ceremonies, with dances, yellitigs and 
bitterest imprecations on the Christian faith and its con- 

They, meanwhile, at Nonantum, are growing indastrioas, 
fimeing their grounds with stone walls and ditches, etc., 
calling on 'Mr. Eliot for spades, shovels and other tools, 
fister than ho is able to supply them. Some of the 
women have spinning-wheels, and can already spin pretty 
well. Their houses begin to improve ; the wigwams of the 
neanest at Nonantum are as good as those of sachems else- 
where, being well built with large pieces of bark, and 
liaving partitions in them. A great step towards refine- 
ment this latter. Schools have been set up, both at Nonan- 
tum and at Dorchester, for the children. And now money is 
needed to pay teachers, to buy books, to feed and clothe the 
•diolars. " They want all things," says lir. Shepard, "and 
must be supplied." 

Among the Cambridge records, I find this, dated April 
ISlh, 1647 : '* Bargained with Waban, the Indian, fi>r to 
keep about six-soore head of dry cattle, on the south side 
of Charlci river, and he is to have the full sum of eight 
ponds, to bo paid, thirty shillingpi in money, and the rest 
In LriiBB eon al three shillingi a buaheL" His care of 




.4 , 

. 'OS 


•t » 

them was to begin April 21st, and to continue till about 
the middle of October; and if any were lost, or ill, he was 
to send word to the town, and if any should be ket through 
his carelessness, he was "to pay according to the value of 
the beast, for his defect" This was Waban's signature 
aflked to the agreement : 


At this time there were, in all Cambridge, ninety houses, 
containing a hundred and thirty-five inhabitants. Besides 
ihe cattle, some of which are provided for as above, there 
were twenty horses, thirty-seven sheep, sixty-two swine, 
and fifty-eight goats. 

The 8th of June, 1647, was a great day in Cambridge. 
A synod of the churches was held there, and thcro was a 
general attendance. The Indians came fit>m all parts ; 
firom Nonantum close at hand, from Dorchester, from Con^ 
cord, and, perhaps, fixwn places yet more distant ; and the 
chief men among the English were there, also. Mr. Brad- 
ford, the deeply respected governor of Plymouth, was there ; 
and, seated with him in a place of honor, was the no less 
excellent Governor Winthrop. From his residence in Box- 
bury, came the pious deputy-govenxv, Mr. Thomas Dud- 
ley, and from Salem, Mr. Endioott, equally lealous against 
men's wearing long hair, and in fiivor of women's heads 
being covered with veils. 

Here met the old race and the new; the representatives 
of the powerful nation of tho Massachusetts, and the fathere 
of the State that now bears the same name, and whoso cap- 
ital sits proudly in sij^t of the same Blue Hills. "The 
ruins of mankind" in contrast with the noble governing 


nee of tbe world. In ererj pceeible reepeet the oontngt 
ii oomplele. The red, tawny hoe of the Indian, hk ooane, 
Uaek hair, his eye of intense blaekneee, that makes you 
diink of dark and distant phM^es in the forest, so entirely 
without lustre is it, without any of the shine of other eyes, 
show well beside the fidr complesdon, the brown hair, and 
tiie edm, clear blue, or gray eyes of the other race. For 
the rest, they were perhaps of equal stature, a tall, strong* 
Bmbed generation on each side. 

Their dress, too, how diiSnrent f Hear what Mr. Gookin, 
of CSsmbridge, telb us : *' The Indians' ckthing in finrmer 
times was of the same manner as Adam's was ; vis., skins 
of beasts ; also, some had mantles of the feathers of birds, 
quilled artificially, and sundry of them continue to this 
day their dd kinds of clothing. But, for the most part, 
they sell their skins and furs to the English, and buy of 
tiieni, for clothing, a kind of cloth called duffle, about a 
yard and a half wide, made of coarse wool, in that formas 
Mr ordinary bed-blankets are made, only it is put . into 
colors, as blue, red, purple. Of this sort <Kf doth two yards 
make a m^tle or coat for men or women. But the Chris- 
tian and civiliied Indians do endeavor, many of them, to 
ftDow the English mode in their habit" 

Another writer gives this acoount: ''Previous to the 
arrival of Europeans in the country, the clothing of the 
Indians consisted of a cloak. To a strong girdle round the 
waist were suspended two aprons, one before and one be- 
hindy which were used as pockets. A long stocking was 
sewed round the leg firom the middle of the thigh to the 
adUe, and the whole foot was covered with a piece of soft 
leather, ingenkmsly stttohed up behind, and sewed to a top- 

the instep. This kind of shoe, called the 



• '* ; 

inw souvM nr thi foubt. 


moccasin, is lij^t and agreeable, and better adapted for 
travelling in forests and in snow, than any other. Thesesim- 
ple articles of dress were made of the skins of wild animals. 
The dress of the women diflered but little firom that of the 
men, except that the aprons extended down bek>w the knees, 
and they generally wore more ornaments, as bracelets, 
necklaces, and broad bands of shells and beads, especially 
of bh^k and white wampum." The hair of both men 
and women was decorated with pieces of bone, shells and 

The taste of the times reqdred, or, perhaps, rather 
allowed to men of station and wealth, a good deal of sump- 
tuonsness and care in their dress; thus the fringed and 
embroidered gloves, the elaborate rufi, and the costly ma- 
terials of the magistrates' attire, with the studied proprie^ 
of tbe ministers' gowns and bands, tho blue coats of the 
serving-men, and the uniform of the military escort^ all 
together made a showy sight, here at Cambridge, this June 
afternoon. Tasunsquaw sat, listening to the music, in her 
blanket and beads, and so did Madam Winthrop, with rich 
satin gown and jewelled fingers. This kdy, the wife of 
the governor, a woman "of singuhur virtue, prudence, mod- 
esty and piety, and especially bdoved and honored of all 
the country," died within a week from this time. She 
foil ill on the 18th, m the afternoon; the next morning she 
died, and on the 16th she was buried. 

It is not certain whether it was al this same meeting of 
the synod in Cambridge, or a year kter, that an incident 
occurred, which must have been one of the less agreeable 
ft^tues of the oocasioQ. Mr. Winthrop mentions, in his 
journal, that "in the midst of Mr. Allen of Dedham's 
goldly and learned sermon, there came a snake into the 

■ *• •'ii 


whu% mukj of the eUen sat, behind the preadier. It 
in ftl the door where people stood thiek npon the 
slauB. Diten of the elden shifted from it, but Mr. 
Thompson, of Braintree, a man of maeh fiuth, trode upon 
the heed of it, and so held it with his foot and staff till it 
was killed.'' A harmless reptile enough, perhaps, but 
decidedly ont of plaoo there in the midst of Mr. Allen's 
learned sermon. Ooremor Winthrop, writing in the spirit 
of the times, thinks the Lord discoYered somewhat of his 
■lind in this. The serpent is the devil; the synod, the 
iq»esentati?e of the churches of Christ in New England. 
The deril had attempted their disturbance and dissolution ; 
but fiuth in the seed of the woman overcame him and 
crushed his head. That was Governor Winthrop's way 
of accounting for a snake's going in at the open door of a 

ib. Eliot preached the afternoon sermon, in the Indian 
language. Hb text was the first verse of the second chap- 
ter of Ephesians: ^^Andyau hath He quickened who were 
dead in iresp€isse9 and sifis,^^ When the sermon was over, 
IIm Indiant were told that they were at liberty to ask any 
questions. A few were accordingly put, such as, " How 
ftr from here was Christ bom?" *< Where is Christ 
now 1 " Ac ; but the questions at this time were not so 
striking as some which we have ahreftdy had at former meet- 
■igB. The chiUreo— ''poor, naked children " — leadUy 
imted the catechism which Mr. Eliot had taught them, 
' we aie told thai the deep seriousness of the Indians, 
r sober piopounding of spiritual questions, and their 
attention to the wml, did marvelkwsly aftot all 
the wise and godly ministers, magistrates and people, and 

nissi dwir hearia up to great thankfidneas. 

mnr soukm nr thb ioust. 


At the end of this summer of 1647, Mr. Shepard, being 
at Nonantum, was struck with seeing so many Indian men, 
women and children, in English apparel, obtained partly by 
gift, partly by their own labor. The same pious minister 
telb us that he, this September, observed one of them call 
his children to him from their gathering of com in the 
fiekl, and craye a blessing with much affection, having but 
a lumiely dinner to eat Also, as Mr. Shepard's parish- 
ioner, Mr. Edward Jackson, was one morning, soon after 
sunrise, passing by one of the wigwams, he heard the owner 
at prayer, at which he was so much aflected that, though he 
could understand but few of the words, he stood under a 
tree within hearing, and thought of the holy Scripture : 
" Thou art the CM that hearest prayer; unto Thee 
ehatt all flesh come," Mr. Shepard remarfai that these 
things should be an example to those who wake in better 
houses, and who may thank God for better food than parched 
com or Indian stalks. 

At one of the Nonantum lectures this September, Wam- 
pas made a complaint that the praying Indians were not 
well thought of, either by their own countrymen, or by the 
English. Other Indians hated and opposed them, because 
of their religion, while the English, on the other hand, sus- 
pected them, and scarcely believed that they prayed at alL 
*' But," added Wampas, <' God, who knows all things, knows 
that we do pray to Him." Mr. Eliot was aware of the 
trath of this man's statement, but encouraged him as muoh 
as he could, telling him that those who knew the praying 
Indians best, had oonfidenoe in their sinoerity. 

In October, a little child died al Nonantum, of consump- 
tion. We give the simple story of its funeral in the wwds 
of Mr. Shepard. *< When it was dead, some of the Indians 




tnofb to an honest man to inquire how they should bury 
their dead. The man told them how and what the English 
didy when thej buried theirs. Herenpon, rejecting all the 
old saperstitioas obsenranceSi at sneh sad timeSy which are 
not a feW| they presently procured a few boards, and bought 
nails of the English ; so made a pretty handsome oo&Rj for 
they are wy dexterous at anything Ihey see once done, 
and put the child into it, and so accompanied it to the 
gravo rery solemnly, about forty Indians of them. When 
the earth was cast upon it, and the gravo made up, they 
withdrew a little from that place, and went all together and 
assembled under a tree in the woods; and there they 
one Totherswamp, a rery hopeful Indian, to pray 
them. He did express such seal in prayer, wiUi such 
variety of gracious expressions, and abundance of tears, 
both <»f himself and most of the company, that the woods 
rang again with their sighs and tears. And all this a fiuth- 
fnl man, Edward Jackson by name, saw, standing at some 
good distance alone from them under a tree." 

The Indian fiithers were rery fond of their children, and 
indulged them so much that they became saucy, bold and 
undutifttL Mr. Roger Williams heard one mourning the 
loss of a child, at break of day, call up his wife and chil- 
dren all about him to lament, with many tears crying 
oat) *'0, God! Thou hast taken away my child. Thou 
art angry with me. 0, turn thine anger from me, and 
spare the rest of my children." They abhor, the same 
writer tdls us, to mention the dead by name, using rounds 
about p h r a ses; as, *'he that was here"; "he that was prinoe 
bera." If any person chance to bear the same name with 
the deceased, he changes it If a stranger accidentally 
the departed, he is checked ; if he do it again wilfUly, 





he is punished. The mention of one of the dead sachems of 
another tribe is considered a ground for war. 

The dead were generally wound up in mats, and all the 
funeral ceremonies were conducted by some serious, wise and 
well-descended man. When they came with the body to 
the place of burial, they laid it down upon the ground, 
and all sat round it to hment, with groans, and bowl- 
ings, and screams, horrible to be heard, while tears ran 
in abundance down the cheeks of the stoutest captains. 
What the dead had best liked and thought most Tsluable 
among his possessions, they placed around him in his graye, 
spread his mat and dish upon it, and hung the skin of some 
animal on the next tree, where no Indian erer touched it 
Within his grasp they placed his tomahawk and scalping- 
knife ; some beads anl paint ; some pieces of wood to make 
a fire, and a bark cup to drink out o( in his long and Icmely 
trarels to the fiur-off country of souls. 

When Canonicus, the old Narraganset sachem, had buried 
his son, he caused his own palace and all his goods to be 
burned, as a token of respect to the dead, and as a solemn 
expiation to the gods, who, as he belieyed, had taken his 
child from him. 

Were not then these earnest prayers at the child's funeral 
in Nonantum, " New sounds in the Forest 1" It should be 
noticed, too, that a prayer at the graye was not then a cus- 
tom of their English neighbors, so their praying was not an 
act of imitation merely, but the result of genuine feeling. 
Waban's prayer, as quoted on another occasion by Mr. Eliot, 
was equally spontaneous. " Take away, Lord, my stony 
heart Wash, Lord, my souL Lord, lead me when I die 
toheayen;" expressions which Mr. Eliot says he had nerer 
used in his prayers, in the presence of the Indians. 



Nnr WBrnnk I Ihtteid of tfis gkom j BileQoa sboat th« 
dnd, W8 lepn to hftn the remits <^ "son and oertaia 
bops." Is phwut, if nd, nmembnooe, IItw oar ohild, 
•ir ftioad, oar broUwr, and U apoken of with oalm lipi. 
Kot MBelaM now ia be in the dim hnntrng-groondg finan 
■wUA wo tUiap orer eune, bat deputed to be with the 

"Ihi iiciM Ihtm vUipeivd, nlU tad bwi 

Aal wand tbdr loBK HM to wri ft*, 
AaibwkMri wh—ly tmi ikm | 
1 I mM aet okaoM bat p 

KaHtaff at har iiwIh W*- 




I tho latter part of the year 
fl647, Mr. Eliot, with bis 
viV frienda Wilaon and Shepard, 
went to Yarmouth, on Capo 
Cod. If the peninrala of 
C^ Cod be oonpared to a man's arm bent npwaris, Yar- 
n»0ttth is sitoated about half way Gwn the shoulder to tho 
elbow. The diatanee from BoatoD is not far from aeTontj 
fflitea. Tho ol^t of the journey, a long one id those days, 
was to aettle some diffieoltiee in "tho braised chnreh" 
^»w«; bat we find, aa we mi^t haTO etpeoted, that Jfr. 






Elioi took tlM opportanity to Tisit and preach to '' the poor 
lodkiis m these remote places." On their coasts it was, 
thai the French Tessel had been wrecked some years previ- 
oos, and, as we conjecture, a priest of the Romish church 
kept prisoner bj the natires till his death. Since that time 
there had been among them some traditionary remembrance 
of the priesf s instmctions, so that, at the close of one of 
Mr. Eliot's sermons, an aged Indian stated that they had 
heard from their old men the same things about God and 
the making of the world. Their forefiithers, they said, vsed 
to know God, bat afterwards the people fell into a deep 
deep^ and when they awoke they hsd quite forgotten Him. 

Among these Cape Cod Indians was a hasty, reckless 
chie^ caUed, by the English, Jehu, on account of his head- 
kmg disposition. This Jehu, spoken of as "a man of a 
fieroe, strong and furious spirit," opposed the preachmg of 
Christianity among his subjects; and although he had 
ffwm his consent that the ministers should hold religious 
serricesy and had promised to attend, when the appointed 
day came, he sent aluKXit all his men out to sea, on a fish- 
ing expedition. He himself went to the meeting, but was 
hte, and preserred throughout a sullen and discontented 
appearance, pretending that he could not understand a word 
thai was ssid, although, as some of the Indians assured Mr. 
Wkif he did understand as well as any of them. Another 
aaeiieai was more courteous, and not only listened atten- 
tholy himself^ but caused aU his men to be present al the 
time and place sdected. 

There is one thing to be said in excuse of Jehu. Mr. 
Sliot owns Aat he had more difficulty than usual in ex- 
jn es sin g himself^ on account of the diftrent dialect used by 
Aese Indisnsi and says he succeeded m making himself 



t> -.1 

It ,i 



understood at last, by the aid of interpreters, and by re- 
peating the idea he wished to convey, over and over again, 
in Tarious forms of words. 

We are told there was a great variety of dialects within 
the space of two hundred miles, while yet a man who had 
lean^ one could converse with thousands of natives all 
over the country. Not more difference, Mr. Eliot says, 
between the dialects of the different tribes on the Atlantic 
coast, than between those of some of the Enjgliah counties. 
The letters / and r are improperly introduced into Indian 
words. The Indians of New England could not speak those 
letters. Thus, for Winslow, they uniformly said Wins^ 
now ; for Narraganset, Nannaganaei ; for Govemori 
Coponohy and so on. 

All the Indians of all the tribes about us were of one 
great race, the Lenape, and to their widely-diffiised lan- 
guage, with its numerous dialects, the general name of 
Algonkin has been given. East, through Maine, New 
Brunswick, and Nova Scotia ; north, in parts of Canada ; 
all about the western lakes to the Mississippi ; and south 
as far as Carolina, this language was spoken, by ninety 
thousand people, over a vast territory extending throng 
sixty degrees of longitude, and more than twenty degrees of 
latitude. This was the speech of Pocahontas, the dau^ter 
of Powhatan, and of Samoset, who welcomed the pilgrims 
to Plymouth ; and this was the mother tongue of the rest- 
less Sacs and Foxes, who roamed the country between the 
Wisconsin and the Illinois, as well as of the 
Pottowattomies and Ottawas. 

There was, not fiur from us, another powerful and distinct 
ftmily, who will by and by appear in our story ; at present 
we return to Gape Cod. One of the Indians there rekted 






to Mr. Biol a dream he liad fomierl j had. He said, that 
daring the great sickness two jears befinre the English 
came, he, one night, fiilling into a troubled sleep, saw nam- 
ben of men in strange garments, such as he had never seen 
before, bat saeh as the English wore when thej came. 
Among the strangers was one man, all dressed in black, who 
carried something in his hand. This was a book, as the 
Indians afterwunds learned ; but in his dream he did not 
know what it was. The man in black, standing in an ele- 
iFatod place, with Indians on one side and the new-KX>mers 
€B the otheri began to speak aloud, and to declare that the 
Indians woold shortly be destroyed for their wickednesSi 
becaose God was rery angry with them. The dreamer 
tiioo^t that he arose and inquired if he should be destroyed 
with the others, or what was to become of him, and his 
■foaw, and his children. No answer was gireni and in 
great distress he repeated the question, and still all was 
■Qent At last, when he had asked a third time, the 
ftranger spoke, and told him that he and his should all be 
iafe, and have plenty of food and *' good things." 

This dream was doubtless occasioned by the memory of 
the French priest's prediction, acting on a mind alarmed by 
the skdmess that was carrying off the tribe. What seems a 
little nngular is, the dislike and opposition of the dreamer 
to the man in black when he really came. It was thought 
that he would listen with a peculiar interest to the sermon; 
hat he came in late, went out, then came in again, hoping 
h was ofer. At last, while the preacher was still speaking, 
away he flung, and they m^w no more of him till the next 
day. And now I haye told all that I know about the visit 

Abool this time, Ifr. Eliot, with Captain Wilkid, of 






Concord, and some other gentlemen, went towards the 

Merrimack river to pay a visit to old Passaconaway, the 

chief sachem of the great confederacy of the Pawtuckets. 

The lands of this nation by to the north and north-east of 

the Massachusetts, including the country of the warlike and 

influential Pennakooks at Concord, New Hampshire, and 

extending south so as take in the small tribes inhabiting 

Salem, Ipswich and Haverhill One of Passaconaway's 

places of residence was Pennakcok ; another was at Amos- 

keag Falls, now Manchester; but when Mr. Eliot took this 

journey to see him in 1647, he was living at one of the 

&Ils of the Merrimack, called Pawtucket, now Lowell. 

When the visitors arrived, they found that the old sachem 
and his sons had run away, pretending to be afraid that the 
English would kill them. Mr. Shepard thinks he could 
not really have feared one who came " only with a book in 
his hand, and a few others without any weapons, to boar 
him company ;" but, perhaps, his conduct will not seem so 
strange if we recall a circumstance that took phioe four or 
flve years before this. 

In 1642, there was great alarm .throughout the English 
settlement, from the belief that all the Indians in the coun- 
try were about to make a general massacre of the whites. 
The government of Massachusetts took prompt measures to 
strike terror into the Indians. ' They even sent men to 
Bramtree, to bring in their ^thful ally, Cutshamakin, with 
his guns and bows. He came willingly, but, as it was Ute 
at night when they arrived in Boston, he was put into pris- 
on and kept there till the next day ; when, finding, on exam- 
mation of him and bis men, no ground of suspicion against 
him, he was dismissed. 

An order was given to disarm Passaconaway and the 

\t ■ 


r>tm. h> <MX.-,ilMJt »ii^A^W1ifc^ 


F^wtad^etSy and finrty urmed men set forth to execute it 
Thej were hindered from raiting the wigwam of Passaoon* 
away bj rainy weather; bat they went to his son's, and 
look him with his squaw and child. They had orders to 
bring in the young man, but for taking the woman and 
child they had none, and were made to send them back 
immediately. Lest the young chief, probably Wannalancet, 
the eUflSt son of the sadiem, should escape, they led him 
by a rope, but he managed to un&stcn it and got away from 
thenii although one of the men shot at and narrowly missed 


Now, as Passaoonaway, while he had maintained his inde- 
pendence, had yet shown only friendly dispositions towards 
the English, this sudden outrage may well surprise us. It 
is, howerer, to be remembered, that it was a period of 
intense excitement ; a contagion of terror had seised both 
magistrates and people. A gun fired at night was suffi- 
cient to rouse a whole settlement, and, as we have said iii 
a former chapter, the shouts of a man lost in the woods 
near Watertown, caused a serious alarm through all the 
towns of Uie Bay. 

The English, fearing, with some reason, that they had 
gone too for in their treatment of the grand sachem, sent 
Cutshamakin to him with an apology and explanation. 
PiMsaoonaway returned answer, that when the woman and 
the child bdonging to him were restored in safety, he 
would go and speak to the English about delivering up his 
guns. The squaw was so much frightened, we are told, at 
her mde seiiure by the armed men, that she ran away into 
the woods, and was absent ten days. The sachem kept his 
«nL and in a short tune sent his son, Wannakncet, to 







t 4 


surrender the arms of the tribe, until the English had 
recovered from their terror. 

Although Passaoonaway did not allow this affiiir to dis- 
turb his peaceful demeanor towards his neighbors, he cculd 
not, we think, have forgotten it ; and when, after an inter- 
val of five years, he heu*d of the approach of another con- 
siderable party of Englishmen, he quietly withdrew with his 
fitmily, and was not at home to his visitors. Some of his 
men remained and listened to the preaching ; and the pray- 
ing Indians whom Mr. Eliot had taken with him from his 
own neighborhood went about into the wigwams and prayed, 
and conversed about the things of God. 

The Pawtucket sachem soon found out that only good was 
intended him by Mr. Eliot's visit, and, the next spring, he 
did not attempt to avoid the meeting. We have spoken of 
the fondness of the Indians for rivers and water&Us. Here 
they found water to drink, to cook with, to bathe in ; here 
they ci^turcd wild fowl ; here they caught fish. This place 
at the Pawtucket Falb was a fovorite resort in the spring, 
as it was one of the best fishing places in the country. The 
word Merrimack is said to mean *'a sturgeon,'' which 
species of fish abounded there, as in all our hirger rivers. 
Sturgeons are very large, some of them being twenty-five 
feet long. In some parts of Europe they are very Ughly 
esteemed, and constitute, with the roe, a considerable article 
of commerce. It is from the swimming bladder of the stur- 
geon that the well-known isingkss is obtained. But it was 
among the ancient Bomans that this fish received the great- 
est honor; it was regarded by them as one of the most 
sumptuous dishes, and at all great dinner-parties was car- 
ried by servants, crowned with garlands of flowerSi and 
accompanied by a band of musicians. 





Our PkwtnoketB used no such ceremonionB observmnoeB ; 
Imti in thdr waj, they too paid respect to the stm^geons. 
Wlien, oo the approach of spring, thrae fish began to ascend 
the riyersi thej came firom all parts to catch them in the 
transparent waters of the Merrimack. Sometimes they 
nsed lines made of willow bark cat into strips and twisted, 
the thij^bones of a rabbit answering the porpose of hooks, 
— or they employed nets made firom the wild hemp. They 
had also a way of catching sturgeon by night They lighted 
picoes of birch-bark and waved them to and firo; this allured 
the storgeoiii which approached, tumbling and playing, and 
throwing up their white bellies, into which the Indians 
ilradc thmr qpears. Mr. Eliot says there was ''much 
gMUBg and eril" at these annual gatherings, which 
ffiiiiiliid him of the fiurs he had witnessed in England. 

To thcM ioeiies of uncongenial festirity, went year after 
jear this sower beside all waters, scattering e?erywhere the 

**89W fai Uw mom thy ned. 

At tf« hold DoC th J hand ; 
lb donbi aiid Ibur gi^e Umni bo keod, 

BiiMdoMt it o'or tlM Iftad ; 
Aad Mj than sppeftr, 

Li TordttfOy bcMityy itmgtliy 
Tkt tander Uodt, tho ilinc, tho Mr» 


Ai his visit in 1648, Mr. Eliot preached a sermon firom 
the Snt of Malaohi, Terse eleienth: "From the rising of the. 
mat eien unto the going down of the same, my name shall 
btpuataaMNig UmlndianM; and in everyplace incense 
ribB be oSved unto my name, and a pure ofiering : tot my 
•haU ba great aaMmg the ImUmu^ saith the Lord rf 


' y 

hosts.'' When the sermon was over, Ptasaconaway said he 
meant to pray, and would persuade all his sons, pointing to 
the two present, and naming those who were absent The 
eldest son, then a sachem at Wachuset, gave his assent; so 
did the other, who was but a youth. 

These Indians would gbdly be taught, if Mr. Eliot would 
live with them ; but they did not care to remove nearer to 
the English for the sake of instruction. They had neither 
tools nor skill, nor sufficient industry to fence their grounds, 
while the English were on their side unwilling to make res- 
titution for injuries done by their cattle to crops unsecured 
by any fence. 

" Here used to be gaming and evil ; now praying, and 
my coming very acceptable," says Mr. Eliot That it was 
so, is evident from what Passaoonaway told Captam Wilhrd, 
who traded to those parts for beaver and otter skins. 
" If," said the Pawtucket sachem, " If Mr. Eliot will be 
persuaded to come and live near my people, I will freely 
give him any ground or pkce that he shall choose." The 
motives of the old chief, at this time, in desiring to be 
instructed in the Christian religion, are hinted at by Mr. 
Eliot in one of his letters written in 1648. After remark- 
ing that these preaching expeditions were a difficult part of 
his work, in respect of the barbarous life and poverty of the 
Indians, he adds, ''There is not so much as meat, drink or 
lodging for them who go to preach among them. We must 
carry all things with us, and somewhat to give to them." 
He then contrasts the coming of the gospel amon^ the rich 
Gentiles, with this. ''Christ will come unto these^ rich, 
potenti above them in learning, riches and power, and they 
ohall flock unto the gospd, thereby to receive external 







benefits md adTUicemeiit, as well as spiritual grace and 

Surely fiw them Christianitj had the promise of the life 
that now iS| and it is no wonder that so sagacious a ruler 
as Passaconawaj desired to use it as a means of elevating 
his people to the hoped-for equality with the whites. In 
one ci the Indian languages is a word for eachem, which 
signifies "a counsellor of the people;" a beautiful and 
i^qpropriate designation of a ruler. Passaconaway's char- 
acter would have been well described by this word. He 
was a great sachem, Mr. Eliot tells us, and a great powaw, 
and a politic, wise man. Very different he seems in dispo- 
sition fipom our passionate Cutshamakin at Dorchester. 
Wb moderation and self-command were as conspicuous as 
his sagacity and talent for governing. Among his people 
be was held a very great sorcerer. They believed that he 
could cause a green leaf to grow in winter, could make trees 
dance and water bum whenever he chose. 

If ow that Mr. Eliot had made himself sufficiently femiliar 
witli the language of the Indians, to preach to them without 
fisar of being misunderstood, we find him firequcntly making 
Jooneys in various directions, among the tribes, as often as 
be can be spared firom his own people; hr wc must 
renember be was all the while pastor of a congregation in 
Bozbuiy. Li a letter to Mr. Winslow, of Plymouth, he 
wrilesy "I have not been dry firom the third day of the 
week unto the sixth, bat so travelled, and at nij^t pull off 
mj bootSi* wring my sftockingi, and en with them again, and 
j§ centime*" 

• Fmnr tinea, m the summer of 1648, Mr. Eliot visited 
*f Bbawanon)" or Sholan, the sachem of Nashaway (Laa- 
Bow). This was nearly fiirty miles firom his home ; 




bat the devout man does not mind that, for these inland 
Indians are earnest, and Shawanon doth embrace the gos- 
pel and pray. There be more people by fiir than among 
115^ — that is, more Indians than in our vicinity, — and sun- 
dry among them do gladly hear the word. So Mr. Eliot 
does not mind the wettings firom Tuesday to Friday, but 
mounts his horse and takes the forest path to Nashaway. 
** I never go unto them empty," says this amiable man. 
** but carry somewhat to distribute among them. So, when 
they come to my house, I am not willing they should go 
away without some rofir^ment." And they, in their turn, 
would have done any scnrice for him. Once, he tells us, 
being up in the country, a poor creature came to his side, 
as hb was about to mount and take his departure, and 
pressed something into his hand, which, on looking at, he 
fimnd to be a pennyworth of wampum on theendof a straw. 
The minister did not reject the potty gift, — no, indeed ! 
*^ Seeing so much hearty affection in so small a thing," he 
readily accepted it, and inrited the Indian to visit him at 
his house, that he also might show his love. 

There was a place called Namaske (perhaps Amoskeag 
Falls, now Manchester), upon the Merrimack, which Mr. 
Eliot was very desirous to visit But the Indian way to it 
lay beyond the great river, the Merrimack, and how get 
their horses over, where was neither ford, bridge nor 
ferry? There was no path on this side except a very cir- 
cuitous one by Nashaway, which was, moreover, rugged 
and unbeaten. But a pathless wilderness of eighty miles 
was a trifle to Mr. Eliot when it ky between him and 
Indians whom he could teach about God and heaven. So 
he hired a Nashaway man to beat out a way, and mark 
trees for direction^ In doing this, the man passed through 


\ - 

^ J.« 






it people caned Sowahagen IndiaiHi, some of wbom 
beard Ifr. Eliot at Pawtacket and at Nashawmy. 

had carried home tnch aoeomita of what they heard, 
he wUk band was stirred with a general desire for 
to Tisit and teach them. 
not at this time possible to oomplj with their 
, bnt when next Mr. Eliot was at Pawtacket Falls, 
Bowahagen Indians were there. It was 1649 bj that 

Old Flissaconaway reoeiTed the minister with much 
on, and again eamestlj invited him to live upon his 
Coming there bnt onoe a jear, the chief said, did 
bit little good, because thej soon forgot, it was so 
between the teachings. He said he had many men 
ronld not beliere him that praying to God was so 
bat if they heard the preaching itself, perhaps they 
be contiDoed. Now, it was '' as if one should come 
hrow a fine thing among them, and they earnestly 
it it, and like it well, bat they cannot look into it to 
lat is within; it may be a stick, or a stone, or it may 
vedoos ihbg. So of praying to God, we like it well 
t si^t, bdt we know not what is within ; it may be 
Bnt or it may be nothing, bat if yoa would come, and 
U /• M and show us what is within, then we should 
I that it is so excellent as you say." Mr. Eliot, in 
NNUit of the solieitations of this sadiem, says he used 
" elegant aiguments, with mudi gravity, wisdom, and 


itm Is made of another journey to visit- the sachem 
^bqnid (Brookfield), sixty miles to the west At the 
f psiiis d Cmt going, there were rumors of disturbances 
m the Kamgansets and the Mdiegans, a Connecticut 
(•dli let the stem be where it would, the waves of 


Indian life everywhere felt the effiscts of it;) it was known, 
too, that five Indians had been killed that year between 
Quaboag (another name for Brookfield) and Lancaster. 
The people at Roxbury, therefore, hesitated about permit- 
ting their minister to make the journey. But when Sho- 
Ian, the Nashaway chief, heard this, he ordered twenty 
armed warriors to attend him, and, putting himself at their 
head, wont the whole distance with Mr. Eliot to guard him. 

But, though thus honorably escorted, the journey was fiir 
from being a pleasant one. The weather proved very wet 
and tedious, so that they were not dry three or four days 
together, nij^t nor day. The streams which they had to 
find were swollen by the rains to an unusual height, and 
the party were thoroughly drenched in riding through. 
Mr. Eliot's horse gave out, and he was forced to take one 
belonging to another person of the company. 

Nor wore the difliculties of the forest and the stream the 
only disagreeable things encountered in these visits. Think 
of the smoky wigwams, of the rude life of the barbarian 
inmates, of the unpleasant sights, and sounds, and smells, 
constantly to be endured, and you will see how much Mr. 
Eliot must have loved the souls of these poor people. 

More pleasant would it have been to this English stu- 
dent to stay in Roxbury with his pen and bis books, to 
write his sermon for his English congregation ; to work in 
his garden, to play with his children, to visit other ministers 
in Boston ; to read, to think, to pray for himself; more 
pleasant, fiir more pleasant this, than riding with wild 
Indians, through wild woods, with the rain beating in his 
fiMse; or than writing down Indian words in his vocabulary, 
by the light of a pine torch, with all those swarthy fiuMS and 
fl^eammg eyes about him. And there were crying infimts. 


■oautTtrx m vitice. 

■ad Bntained ohfldnn tt load, trooblMome plaj, mA dogi, 
iod tLe dotula of ooolcmg. lUrd work it mnst hare been 
WM tiiw i to force himself to introduce the anbliiDO veritiot 
of nUgioo into such sqiulid compiniefl as these. 

When we oonsider what trifling things interTcre with our 
■tady irf" the Holjr Bible, aud prevent or shorten oar 
pmfen^ and then remember how Mr. Eliot bore up against 
M Buj ofaatactes. and uoTcr lost heart nor hope, must we 
mt own that he waa nearer to heaven, aztd poesessod 
man of the sinrit of our religion, there, sitting on a heap 
of ibmw in the wigwam, or on a Ikllcn log in the woods, 
AiB «o in onr qniet homes and eunfbrtable oharcheil 


1)^ oBM Id Danr WBt, 

wm dnHod, hi* >7« tbot tt 
7 dob wtth dradftil din, 
th« naki of battle thin I 
idi t«rritta hmtg 
r mmI wlkt-wt tUn ; 

I'S bii boKHB tWUDg, 

"flbi^SMawMbal Twm hU ha eft pmMd 
n* aU* Imr, Md rinr Un in Mi dn ; 
Hil aft ht W>kd throaih Buv » F^kM wMd. 
lal Haaj a lu^ wild. Bad pokoMMi ft«, 
That BS^ WM ti«d ^ ftlwr MDrtd HM. 


ma phMM hk loeb 



HE years 1648 nnd 1649 passed 
qu otlj over the Nonantum Indians. 
Thcj were busy at their iroprorc- 
ments nuking the r better houses, 
with partit ons in them and pro- 
vidng thetnscl ea nitl some Eng- 
lish comforts obtained bjr thoir own 
indoatiy Thejr plaotod fhut-trooa they made fields and 
fences ; they learned to spin ; they worked for their Eng- 
lish unghboTB. Hr. Eliot, id one of his letters giving an ■ 
aoconnt of their progreM, says of their clothing : " Sonw 
old things I have gotten and gireo them, and some they 
boy, and they oarefnlly keep them tiU noeting timei, and 






BtnTof tliem at such timei we prettj handsome [weB- 
dmwd], both men and women, and children aho." He 
•peaks, too. of fencing in a great com-field, and of contem- 
Jbtrfoichards, and aays the Indians w 

food board and plank. 

For schools, a gentleman in London had sent ten ponnds. 
Half this snm Mr. Eliot paid to a grare woman in Cam- 
hrid«, who taught some of the children, and '• God so blcMod 

J«rSLsthatlej^ The other fire 

pounds were given to a schoolmaster in Dorchester, whose 
moom was greater because his pupils were bigger and more 

tL agriculture carried on by the natives was necessarily 
of a very rude character. As a stone set in a wooden staff 
is but an indiBcront axe for felling timber, fire was the groat 
- aimit employed in clearing their hmds. For hoes they made 
IM of bones, the shoulder-bUdes of bears, moose or deer,— 
wd some had wooden hoes, which, Mr. Roger Williams 
oava, many old and poor women, fearing to leave their old 
wmja, still persisted in using, when they might have had 
be£ ones fiom the English. They raised in their fields 
«n» of maiae, what we call Indian oom, abo squashes, 
wd pumpkins, and beans. The com, boiled cither whoU) 
or whTffound, was a common dish. When boiled whole 
H was celled " musickquatash," and it is still eaten m New 
BaAad under the name of succatash. The ground corn 
STboikd was called nasaump. "From this," says Mr. 
BMer Williams, "the English call their samp, which is 
Oislndian com beaten and bofled, and eaten hot or cold, ; 
wiUi milk or butter, which are mercies beyond the natives 
pUn water, and which isadish exceeding wholesome for 
Aeb^ bodiea.'' T6 convert the oom into meal, it 


was either ground between two stones, or pounded with a 
wooden or stone pestle in a mortar made of a large log, 
hollowed out at one end. This meal was sometimes 
boiled and made into a kind of cake, with crumbs of dried 

tli '^i venison. 

P:- wl Yfe quoto again firom Mr. Williams, who, speaking cS 
parched meal says, " I have ^veiled with near two hun- 
dred Indians at once, near one hundred miles through tlie 
woods, every man carrying a little basket of this at his 
back, suiBcient for one man three or four days. With this 
ready provision, and their bow and arrows, are they ready 
for war and travel, at a moment's warning. With a spoon- 
ful of this meal, and a spoonful of water from the brook, 
have I made many a good dinner and supper." 

A favorite dish with them, when at home, was a sort of 
pottage made of boiled fish, beans and maize. For this pot- 
tage nothing seems to have come amiss ; fish and flesh of all 
sorts were used, either finesh or dried, cut into small pieces 
and boiled thoroughly, and several sorts of roots, as well as 
pumpkins, squashes, acorns, walnuts, chestnuts. One old 
writer says boiled chestnuts served them for white bread, 
tasting very sweet, as if mixed with sugar. lie also speaks 
of puddings made of beaten com, and filled with great store 
of bhckberries. This is the same author who exclaims, 
jf; . ^i| "And let no man make a jest at pumpkins, for with this 
'-'^ Jij^ tooA the Lord was pleased to feed his people, to their good 
content, till com and cattle were increased.'' 
The strawberry bread, which the squaws prepared by 
I braising that firuit in a mortar, and mixing it with their 
; parched meal, must have boon very poktable, more so, in 
\ our opinion, than the pottage of which Mr. Gookin gives 
\ this fhU account: "Their food is generaUy boiled maiisr 




1 1 







mixed with kidiiey-beiiiSi or sometimes without Also, 
thejr froqnently boil in this pottage, fish and flesh of all 
■orts, either new-taken, or dried ; as shad, eels, alewiyes, 
or n kind of herring, or any other sort of fish. Bat they 
dry mostly thoso sorts before mentioned. These they out 
in picees, bones and all, and boil them in the aforesaid pot- 
tage. I haTo wondered many a time that they were not in 
danger of being choked widi fish-bones, but they are so 
dezteroos to separate the bones from the fish, in their eat- 
ing thereof^ that they are in no hazard. Also, they boil in 
diii formenty, all sorts of flesh taken in hunting ; as veni- 
noo, bear's flesh, beayer, moose, otter, raccoon, cutting in 
small pieeeSi and boiling. Also, mix with it seycral sorts 
€f roots; as Jerusalem artichoke, and ground nuts, and 
elhcr roots, and pumpkins and squashes. Also, several 
aorts of masts; as oak-acorns, chestnuts, walnuts, — these, 
basked and dried, and powdered, they thicken their pottage 
therewith. Also, sometimes they beat their maiso into a 
mealy and rift it through a basket made for that purpose. 
With this meal they make bread, baking it in the ashes, 
eovering the ^gh with leaves. Sometimes they make of 
their meal a small sort of cakes, and boil them. [Like our 
dsmplings these are.] They make, also, a certain sort of 
■wal of parched maiae. This meal they call nokake. It 
k io sweet, toothsome and hearty, that an Indian will travel 
many days with no other food but this meal, which he eats 
m he needs, and after it drinketh water. And for this end, 
whea they travel a journey or go a hunting, they carry this 
wikake in a basket or bag for their use.'' 

When abroad and aome game had been shot or snared, a 
flfi was made eo the qpot, and the animal roasted and eaten 
ikheit bread, aali or qpioa. IVeah fish were sometimes 



• y: 


broiled on the coals, sometimes fiistened to a board, and so 
toasted before the fire. This last way of cooking was well 
suited to the smaller fish, as, for instance, the bass, which 
weighs generally from (me to three pounds. The bass is a 
beautiful fish, with dark olive back, and golden sides, and, 
though now scarce upon our coasts, was formerly caught in 
almost incredible numbers. " A boss for a biscuit " hud 
been the rule of exchange, since the time that Mr. Warohani 
and his fellow-passengers went up the river Charles to Water- 
town, as may be read in our first chapter. It sounds odd to 
hear of half-grown Indian boys shooting bass with their 
arrows. Yet, from its habit of swimming at the very sur- 
fikoe of the water, this fish was often thus taken. 

•« When ohestnot Imtcs are m Ug m thaiiib-oail* 
Then bite Uaok-Ssh withont fiiO. 
Bat when obcetnat IcaTce aro u big ee a tpan, 
Then eatoh blaek-Ssh if yon can," 

was one of the sayings of the Indian wise men. Another 
was to this efiect : " When the leaf of the white oak is as 
big as the ear of a moose, it is time to plant corn." 

We have spoken of the game that runs, and of the game 
that flics, and of the " abundance of the seas ;*' there were, 
also, the "treasures hid in the sand," — ckms, according 
to the exposition of an old writer, — and, altogether, the 
natives would not have been ill-supplied, if they had exer- 
cised any forethought But, though capable of great occa- 
sional abstinence, when they had leisure and a plentiful 
supply of food, they consumed enormous quantities, and 
they were so indolent and wasteful, that mudi utterly per- 
ished for want of care. 

In hoqutality, the virtue of the savage, they never 

k> s • 

tit. . V 

I * ■ 


i'r ' 







SajB Mr. Roger Wnikms, " Whoerer comes in when tbej 
ire ealiiig, Ihej oCsr them oomey be it erer so little. V 
way p mmkm of fish or flesh comes in, they make their 
nei^ibofs putakera with them. Manj a time, and all 
times ot ni|^ as I haTO fidlen in trsTel upon their houses, 
irhen nothing has been ready, haTc themseWes and their 
irires risen to prqiare me some rcfineshing." 

The cooking ntensils irere few and simple ; at first, a 
:iew pots made of chlorite and other soft stones, and a few 
^ressds of baked clay ; and, lately, pans and pots ot metal 
:£om the English. 

While the settlement at Nonantom Imted, sereral deaths 
^De cMf cd, Area of whidi, at least, we nnist mention as haT- 
Stig connection with our history. The first was the wife of 
n? ampaa. She waa the first adnlt who died of those whom 
^^b. Biot had begm to teach the way of salvation by Jesos 
Ovist He says, " After I begin to preach to them, her 
and she did qniddy come in, and after she came, 
waa a diligent hearer. Oat of desire to lite where the 
^verdof God was taaght, they fetched all the com they 
uleen miles on dMir bftdbfiom the place of plant- 
She was indnstrioM, did not go abont to English 

OBW do, bnt kept at home,— kept her 

^kldren to kbor, makiag baskets to sdl, etc SheqdcUy 


Her life seems to haws been Mimriem and e iwp l aiy ; 

who asked the qnestien abont her hnsband's 

her hemri tUrimg his pnyer. Mr. EUot 

.^ Hsgsmentosay, ''ShetoldmeahsstiniofedOod, 

Hs made her akk, and waa rssolfed to pngr vsto 

Mvnd, nd to isfeM pMswiK. She 

I fA 


r ^ ■ 

said also that she beUered God would pardon all her sins, 
becaose she beliered that Jesos Christ died fer her, and 
that God was well pleased in him, and that she was willing 
to die, ind MccMil tQ go to heaven and lite happy with God 
and Christ there. 

<< Of her own accord, she celled her children to her, 
especially two grown-np da»|^iten, bom befere she msrricd 
Wsmpas, and said to them, ' I shall now die, and when I 
am dead yonr grandfiuher and grandmother, and nndes, 
will send fer yon to come and lite amongit them, and will 
pmnise yon great matters, and tell yon what pleasant lit- 
ing it is among them. Bnt do not beliete them ; and I 
diarge yon neter to hearken nnto them, nor lito amongit 
Aem, fer they pray not to God, and keep not the Sabbath. 
Bit I diarge yon lite here, fer here they pray onto God, 
the word of God is tao|^t, sins are sapprmicd snd pnnished 
by kws, snd therefere I diarge yon lite here all yonr 
days.' Soon after this she died, and it fell oat as she had 
aud, fer there was earnest sending fer the msids to lito 
with them, so that the esse was proponnded to me on alee- 
tnre-day. Their step-fether opposed their going, not only 
ss jndging it etil, bat becaase of their mothers chargs; 
and by this aMsns I esam to know the story.^ 

And we know it too. Wampaa did not anrtito his wife 
terykmg. Mr. Eliot says of him, '^ think he did nms 
gmd by his death than ho conld hasis done by Us Isfei 
One of his sayiagi waa» that God gptcA ns thtee 

hava had omr shsrs m the tm 
wiDiBg to take omr part m the 
Mady. Hmlmtwoi^wyshho 





* O Lord, gira me Jeana Christ.' And, when be oonJd 
9peak DO mora, be oontitiDGd to lift tip b» haikb to bearai, 
•oootding u hia strength lasted, onto his lut bmth, so that 
ikej sa; of him, ho died pnymg. The last time I aaw him 
m this wm-ld, oot donbtiiig bat I shall see him with Christ 
n glory, one of his sajrings was this : 

" ' Four and a qnartcr joan ainee, I came to joar hoose, 
■ad broo^t some of our childran to dwell with English.' " 
Mr. Eliot remembned that Saturday ni^t in Norember, 
wdeodo we. 

Wampaa wcot on : " Now I die, I stronglj entreat jon 

In entreat Elder Heath (with whom hia son lired), Mid the 

rtmt which hare oar children, that they may be tanght to 

know God, so as that they may teach their coontrymen, 

fcewause sodi as example would do great good antong then. 

X now shall die, but Jcsna Christ calla you that lire to go 

fa» Natick, that then you may make a church." Hia gra- 

''Auua words were acceptable and aSicting, that whereas they 

*»^iJ to fly, and aroid with toror auch aa lie dying, now, eo 

Cm« flontniy, iIm^ flodced together to bear hia dying words ; 

^vKmbs deatt and bnrial they beheld with many tean, nor 

*^^B I aUe to wrilo his story without weeping." 

In 1649, the Indiana lost a good friend in the pesBOo of 
^K:v. Shepard, the minister of Gambridgei He had stood 
**iA«j Ugh, in New En^aad, aa a praacher and aa a learned 
^^^n, ai^ Us death was a peealiair grief to Mr. Eliot, vbott 
^"Mjuib smoi^ the bdiana he bad from the beginning sjn- 
^^■idbed with, and to aone extent ^Mred. One good man, 
*'^Ma good friead to Aa IndiaM and to Mr. Eliot, atill lired 
^ Chahridp,— Mr. Gookia. a lame dear to aU who taka 
^^ ■!— t in anr ftnwlisa at Hsswtwa. 

Jb aAn M Hr. BUM wTCta to ha frian^ in ^hnd, ha 




reoonled some of the queatiooa which laia ludiona had asked 
at their meetings. Many of these are reiy interesting, 
they show sndi mtnglod simplicity and sbrowdDcas. 

" When the soul goes to bcuTen, what doth it aay when 
it emncs there 1 " We, too, hsTe all of us rajnly strJTen 
to folk>w the departed spirit to its home. 

"If a man be almost a good man, and die, whither goes 
his soul 1" 

" Since we see not God with onr oyea, if a man dream 
that be see God, doth his soul then see him?" 

Here is one that seema the expression of atrong personal 
ieeling. " What ahall I do to be wise 1 " 

The next haa a touch of eauatie sererity in it ; pcrh^ 
it was asked in presence of some Englishman wbeoe oon- 
eeience could apply it " Do not Englishmen spoil their 
sonb to say a thing cost them more than it did ; and is it 
not all one as to steal 1 " 

And this one might hare towdied any of us if we bad 

heard it " If any talk of another's faolts, and tell others 

of it, when he is not present to answer, is not that a tin 7 " 

" Seeing Eve was first m sin, did she die first?" 

" Ifow many good people were in Sodom befhre it was . 

burnt 1" 

" Sedng God pnmiaed Abraham so many children, like 
the Stan fin- multitude, why did be giro him ao few, and wia 
ittnel" [That is, waa God's pnmuse kept?] 

" Why did Abraham bay a place to bury in?" Umbs 
■pnag froBi a natural eoriosity eooeeming what they had 
heard from the Bible. As fiv the last, how amid an Indian, 
•BMslomed to the widest lange of hills and plana, eoapra- 
heod the neeesaty of buying a bnrial-plaee? 

" Why aaat ws km our oamiea, and how Aall wa do 



iti'* Difficult matter for the white man, and how very 
^fficnlt for the red, on whose race for agesi revenge has been 
jnenlcated as one of the highest dotics ! 

" How shall the resurrection be, and when 1 " A qoos- 
*tion that, to which no sufficient answer has erer been given 
lij mortal lips ; and the same maj be said of this too : 
''Does the soul in heaven know things done here on 

The next shows the remains of their old demon worship, 
rather of the feeling which originates such worship. ** I 
I must fear hell, and I do so everjr day, but whjr must I 
I think the man who asked the next was inclined to put 
his repentance. "If I hear God's word when I am 
^^oang, and do not believe, but when I am old I believe, 
^irhat will God sajrl " Mr. Eliot could easily reply to that, 
I, auppose. 

We cannot help sympathizing with the feeling that 
prompted this. |' If my heart be full of evil thoughts, and 
X repent and pray, and a few hours after it is full again, 
I repent and pray again, and if, after this, it be full of 
thoughts again, what will God say ? *' 
The next makes us smile. " What if a minister wear 

hair, as some other men do, what will God say 1 '' 
And this, " Why have not beasts a soul as man has, 
Rng they have lovci anger, etc., as man has V reminds 
ef Pope*s couplet : 

•• lb fhiaks, sdmltlad to tliat cqatl sky* 
Hii lOlkfU d^ sImII beir Um eonpsigr.*' 

^Why do Englishmen so esgerly kill all snakes?" 
^'If CM thai prayi to God sins like him that prays not^ 




: f 

is not he worse? " And while, says Mr. Eliot, '' they dis- 
coursed of this point, and about hating wicked persons, one 
shut it up with this : They must love the man and do him 
good, but hate his sin." 

'' Seeing the body sinncth, why should the soul be pun- 
ished? — and what punishment shall the body have ? " 

An old woman asked, '' When all the world is burnt up, 
what shall be in the room of it?" Far from stupid, cer- 
tainly, were the minds that proposed such inquiries as 

Gutshamakin's Indians were not neglected during these 
two years. The lecture was kept up at Dorohcstcr Mill 
once a fortnight We are told of one occasion on which the 
governor and about two hundred people, Indians and Eng- 
lish, were present at the sachem's wigwam. Mr. Winthrop, 
who mentions this, says, they were very attentive and kept 
the children still. Very inquisitive, he adds, the Indians 
are. '' One asked a plain Englishman what were the first 
principles of a commonwealth." The Englishman, who 
does not appear to have been, in this instance, greatly supe- 
rior to Iiis red brother, *^ was ashamed not to say something; 
so ho answered that salt was one, which keeps flesh and 
fish, that iron was another, and ships a third. Ah I said 
the Indian sorrowfully, I fear we shall never be a common- 
wealth ; we can neither make salt, nor iron, nor ships." 

'' The stoic of the woods," as we have seen, was by no 
means '^a man without a tear," and the common notion of 
the indiffinrent and incurious disposition of the race seems 
equally incorrect Their rules of civility and good man- 
ners were peculiar, and in certain circumstances the pride 
of the warrior gave him a self-control quite marvellous ; but 
when in company with friends only (and who would wish to 



di^ltt/ emotHm hehn m stnmgcr or an cnemyl) the/ 

laoghod, wept, and talked, mndi Uke other human boin^ 

' One of them, speaking of tliis T017 inbjoct said, " Wo han 

aa mndi enrxnit/ u joa, and vhen yoa cotoo into oar 

towns, we wish fi»- opportonitics of looking at joa ; bnt for 

this parpose we hide omsclrcs behind bushca where 70a 

«re to pus, snd oorcr intmdo onrselrcs into jronr coroptuijr." 

IDiree jcan hare gono orcr sineo that first sennon to 

'Vafaan and his companj, and now, besides the settlement at 

JfoDsntom, and scattered eonrcrts elsewhere, an imprcssioa 

XiM been made on at least threo sachems, — Possoconawaj, 

TlUMttawaa, and Catshamakin. Whilo Mr. Eliot always 

(nmaed his objects in a perfectlj (earless manner, he was 

^wan of the infloonco of the sachems, and cndcarorod as 

vmidi as passible to conciliate them. He tells ns that few 

«kf the Boathem bidiaos (south fitn tho Ncponset) were 

■aieliDed to Christianitj, except some of Tchticat, now Mid- 

^loboraa^ wbo, learning that Catshamakin prajtsd, wished 

%o {my also. " Tho Ljnn Lidians are all naught," he 

•—tila. "saTO one, who sometimes comes to hear, and tdls ns 

1m pny*- ^^* reason, becanse the sachem oomca not to 

There is a pnttj storj' told, how some stranger bdiaaa 
Omim oaoe fiom Martha's Vinejard to see some of Hr. 
Slio^fl cei i Tw ti . TbcM Isst expreaaod great joj at tfie 
VJHt, and afterwards inqvired "wbj, when a strange Indian 
«iMMB aMOf^ «a whom we nerer saw before, yet, if he pray 
t» God, we do exeeedingi jr lore him ; bat if oar own brother, 
^vdlii^ a great waj ol^ come mto as, he not ptsTing to 
Ood, thoa^ we hire him, jet nothing so as we lore that 

*^Wr s tiaiig i ui wka doth pnjl " In aaswcr to this, lb-. 

"^^wt i^liiasJ te thssa m wdl as ha eoald, the natara of 




reiigkms sjmpathj, and look the opportanitj to tell them 
ahoat some friends of his own in Englaod, who, having 
heard of their beginning to praj, bred them, and had 
reeentlj, in a letter to himself sent them aSecUooate greet- 
iagl ; which was " well-plcasing " to the TmlUnf 

floira or tub bablt iETrLEt& 

- Aal vhCB IkB q>iBg i^IMi «« tlwa bJn the bM, 
AaA maka the froaad iwdy to pkat ud to wv | 
Omr eon bdog pbattd ead KCd tnias nw>. 
The wwM fce tr n j mm6k bdbre M fapwra. 

•• Aad while It b cmriag, n«e tpdO thm ii M«i 
B/ Ui^ e^ t7 qaln^ Iha piMh mp the hbit I 
Aad whca It to eoM to lUI ecn b the Mr, 
d b7 reeeeM ead hy tar. 

•• ir ttafe toea be weatt^ to n MP ev dM, 
We Wi« <anet>, m4 pnfUM, esA tanlpi, eai Ilk 1 

Oar lan^ e^ puBipe ere 
Te^Wj I |Hiii«l»e»al^ 
"' -'1 I" . II' "• 





** Wbise the erimawktiBt«d ncoing Uw 
From the glowing nffron Aj ; 
Where tbc ton'i Ikat beknw 
Light ap iroodi uid Btironu, 
And brightni tbe gloom bolow ; 
Aod tbt deer spriDgi by 
Witli hii BksbiBg eje, 
Aad the ihf, Bwift-fboled doe | 
And Um »d *indi ohida 
In tb« bimncbea wide, 
_ VUk » tMdn' pUint of wotL-' 




00 DCflj the English, ' sOM 
became tlio frcrjucnt oom- 
I pkint at Nonantuni The two 
I rac«s were not comfortable to- 
geUicr for reasons alreodj al- 
^'' luded to whcD spoaking of the 
tribes upon the Mcmmack If 
the Induns ealtiTstod land, tboir somewhat fitfol aitd img- 
nlar indiutij did not Bcean crops oqual to tboae of tiwir 
whito nei^bon, to whom also the habit of using tools gare 
an adrsntage in all meebanioal pmmila. The constant 
sense of infaioritjr is a pai&fal thing in itself, and of ooorsa 
not all the English were wise enough or good enoogh to 
make tibeir anterior skill hi the arts of life jmfitabla to 



mmmmmm^. "- 





ihm red farotlieni withoat being oppressive to them. And, 
IImOi the Lidiaa ooald not bear to bo crowded, and the new 
towns and fields not onlj frij^tened awajr his game, but 
made hhn feel shut in and watched. Nor was he with his 
ludf-tamed character, and wild, unsteady wajs, always an 
agreeable neighbor to the thrifly, order-loring whites. So 
diflfenlties arose between the two parties, and a desiio on the 
part of the weaker to remore from the immediate yioinity of 
tne more powerful. 

BesideSy Nonantom did not afford room enough for Mr. 
EBot to carry ont his pkns of establishing the Christian 
Indians in conmranities, under a ferm of government with 
rsKgioos institutions of their own, and with all the proper 
appliances fer their gradual civilization. And now to choose 
a suitable place ! New cares, new journeys for Mr. EUot^ 
who, with some of his friends, made several excursions about 
the country in this search, in the early part of the year 
1650. I wish some of these gentlemen had told us ''the 
whole story ** about these rides, — whither they went and 
what they saw, and what they said ; but it was not their 
custom to describe natural scenes, and on their pages bloom 
ftr us but few flowers, — but few trees wave their green 
bon^is,-*but few brooks murmur, though the land was 
gay, the ferest rich, and the waters musical exceedingly. 

Let us use the words of Washington Irving, in painting 
aaodisr hndscape : "Weseethe bittern rising with hollow 
ssram, as fliey break in upon his rarely invaded haunt; 
the Ung-fisher watching them suspiciously from his diy 
trse that overhangi the deep, bhick pond, k the gorge of 
Oe Uns; the tortoise letting himself sUp sideways from off 
Ae atone cr log on which he is sunnnig himself and the 
' * frog plumping in headkog as they approad^ 



and spreading an alarm throughout the watery world 

All this and more Mr. Eliot may have seen ; but he 
says nothing of it He tolls us, however, that during the 
time he was engaged in this search, he was much occupied 
in praying for direction from heaven. In one of his lettors 
written in the autumn of that year, he speaks of having 
gone to " a place of some hopeful expectation." He found 
it, however, not suited to his purpose, and turned hie course 
towards home. On the way, he allowed the others to. pass 
on, while he stopped and knelt behind a rock in earnest 
jHrayer. Not long after, some of the Indian guides who 
were with him mentioned a situation, which they described 
as everything that could be desired. He presently visited 
the spot, I think in this same journey, and was greatly 
delighted with it 

The Indians called it " A Thoe of Hills,"— Natick. It 
by about eighteen miles from Boston, towards the south- 
west ; fifteen miles or so from the hill of Nonantum. At 
Mr. Eliot's request, the inhabitants of Dedham, in whose 
territory the lands were partly situated, granted them to 
the Indian converto, under the sanction of the General 
Court The original grant included about six thousand 
acres, for which the Indians gave in exchange another town- 
ship, Deerfield. 

As the settlement was to be on both sides of the Charles, 
one of the first things to be made was a bridge across that 
stream, whichi though easily waded in summer, was danger* 
ously deep at other times, especially in the spring, on the 
melting of the snow. So the Indians with their own hands 
built a fi>ot-hridge, with a stone foundation, eigh^ feet long, 
and eight feet h^ in tibe middle, that it mig^t stand above 

itinTit^i 1 nil t-fia 

T. -■ *• 

., wL»a* 






the floods. When it was done, Mr. Eliot called togediflr 
llie Indiaiis, {Hrsjed and gare thanks, and tan^t ihem out 
of a portion of Scripture. This had been hard and tedious 
kbor in the water, and Mr. Eliot thought proper to <rfbr 
tfaem wages. At the same time he told them, that, as the 
bridge was finr thrir own use, if they chose to do it all "in 
fare, he should take it well." They answered, that they 
were &r from desiring any wages for doing their own work, 
but, on the other hand, were thankful to him that he had 
called them, and counselled them, in a work so needful for 
them. This was in the autumn of 1650. 

The town was laid out in 1651. It consisted of three 
kog stieetSy two on the north side of the river, and one on 
the south, with house lots to every fiimily. It seems that 
BBOSt of die lands about Natick, were the inheritance of an 
Indian called John Speene, with his brethren and kindred. 
Before the removal from Nonantum. it was thought right 
that these persons should formally surrender their private 
daims to the public interest They were all very willing 
to do so, and " on s lecture day, publicly and solemnly, 
bofafo the Lord and all the people, John Speene and all his 
kindred, friends and posterity, gave away all their right 
and interest which they had in the land, in and about 
Natid^ unto the public interest of the town of Natick, 
diat so dbe Praying Indians might there make s town." 

In compensation, they received house-lots as the others 
did, and ** * gratuity unto their great contentment" An- 
tthcr fiunily made s similar quitclaim in s document in 
Ur. Elwf s band-writing, and dated 1650, to which are 
PffMd e^teen names as witnesses. The first, is John 
SUol; the seeond, Waban ; the fourth, Piambouhoo. 

A fori was bnilti s handsome large fort of a round figursi 



palisadoed with trees. Mr. Eliot goes on to tell us : ^'When 
grass was fit to cut, I sent some Indians to mow, and others 
to make hay at the place, because we must oft ride thither 
in autumn, when grass is withered and dead, and in spring, 
before any grass is come for our horses. This work was 
performed well. We must also have s house to meet in, 
lodge in, and by up our prorisions and clothes, which can- 
not be in wigwams. I set them, therefore, to fell and 
square timber ; and when it was ready, I went, and many 
of them with me, and on their shoulders carried all the 
timber together" (that is, '' raised" the house). Mr. 
Eliot paid wages for all service of this kind, as an encour- 
agement to labor. Certainly without s good deal of con- 
senting feeling, and substantial assistance, too, from his 
good people at Roxbury, their minister could not have done 
as much as he did. 

Of this one large house, built after the English manner, 
the lower room was a hall, which served for a meeting-house 
on Sunday, and a school-house through the week. The 
upper room was a kind of wardrobe where the Indians hung 
up their skins, and other things of value. In a comer of 
this room Mr. Eliot had an apartment partitioned off, with 
a bed in it Mr. Gookin says, " Houses built after the 
English manner being more expensive to build, and not so 
warm as their own sort of wigwams, and, moreover, not 
being movable at pleasure, and themselves being generally 
artists in building and finishing their own wigwams, for 
these and like reasons they do incline to keep their old- 
fitfhioned houses." 

It is not likely that the Indians were content to remain 
long upon their lots, in the three streets. They settled all 
about that ''Phm of Hills," on the Ciochituate pond, as 

{ f ^' 


I u 






ndl as on the pleasant banks of the Charles. A yisit to 
this town, at the present daj, shows how well the natives of 
this eoontrjr knew how to bestow names on the diftrent 
parts of their fiur inheritanee. If we ascend a beantiful 
conical-shaped eminence aboat a mile firom the Charles, 
oaUed Pegan hill, from an Indian ot that name, we have 
not onlj a charming prospect of the adjacent coontry with 
its winding river and glittering kkcs, but wo can count tho 
anmerons elevations which struck the observant savage, and 
ande him call the spot " NaticL" 

TherOi jnst befine ns, sloping gentlj down to the margin 
of the water, is one now known as Perry's hill ; across the 
stream its fellow, Carver's hill ; ferther off, a mile from the 
tiver, a foorth, the twin brother of Pegon where we are 
stancUng ; and still a fifth, called Train's hill ; and in fall 
aigjht is one in Needham, and another in Shcrbnmo, near 
the bonnds of Natick, both of them. In the north-east 
comer ot the town is the beantiful hill called Tom's, from 
its having been owned in these olden times by a celebrated 
Indian who went by the name of Captain Tom. Thirty 
miles away, the Wachuset mountain catches the eye, aiki 
ftrther y«t, old Monadnoo rears his hoary head, while 
cdle^^ scaroely to be known from clouds, stand in the dis- 
tant horiaon* 

A place of hillsi indeed ! Never, I thmk, since the old 
Hsbfww days, has a people known how to give names so sig- 
niftoant Mattapoiwt, <*a place of rest;" Connecticut, "the 
liver ofpines," or, as some say, "the long river;" Seituate, 
^cold bmk," are instances. We, their successors, with our 
nnmsaning and inappropriate repetitions of the names of 
«nr great men, from Columbus down throu^ all the presi- 
imti, with our nnmberless **i9n$'' and "t^ifite/' have not 


shown half the taste and mvention of the Indian. Happily, 
however, there has been sense enough somewhere to let 
Natick still be Natick, and not Eliotville or Gookinville. 
The name of the apostle to the Indians has been assigned 
with great propriety to a plain which was the site of the 
first meeting-house. Another plain, called Pegan plain, 
not fiur firom the centre of the town, may be noticed as the 
water-shed, or height of hnd in this region. It is said of 
a house standing here, that the water from the eaves on 
one side runs into Charles river, and meets the ocean at 
Charlestown ; or else, following the channel of Mother- 
Brook, which connects the Chsrles with the Neponset, it 
mingles with the waters of this ktter river, and so joins the 
ocean at the Neponsct's mouth. The water which fells 
from the eaves on the other side flows into Cochituate 
pond, thence into the Concord river, thence into the Mer- 
rimack, and thus finds its way to the sea at Newbuiyport ; 
or, perhaps, now the Boston water-works are constructed, 
it comes by the aqueduct to that city, bringing to the hot^ 
thirsty capital, health, cleanliness and comfort from the 
"Phice of Hills." 

We cannot now exactly ascertain all the dates of the dif- 
ferent incidents connected with the removal to NaticL It 
was only to cany a few wigwam poles, a few canoes, a few 
piles of bark, some small store of provision and scanty house- 
hold stuff, about fifteen miles up the Charles. It was all 
done in a few days in the spring of 1651, as I suppose. 
We hear of a little deky in the buiMing of Mr. Eliot's 
house, on account of the death by small-poz of the Indian 
most skilled in carpentry. 

In a letter written in April of this year, Mr. Eliot speaks 
of '^the ezeroise of love to such as be in affliction, either by 

»*. f 



orpofer^. I haTe seen/' be nj8| *' lifel/ aotingi 
of ehaiitj and of roferoiice to tbo oommaod of the Lord, 
when eadh as had not that [nrineiple were fiur from sueh 
worha of merej. It pleased Ood to trjr them in time of 
small-poz, tap some of them did haiard their lires in obedi- 
enee to the oommand of the Lord, to show mercy to them 
ttai are sick, and some were infiscted thereby, and fell sick, 
and hj with mneh cheerfiilness and patience under Ood's 
hands, and through mercj are well again. 

''likewise, to a poor paralytic, whose own children grew 
tired of him, and finrsook him. He would haye perished 
hnl ttai the Lord stirred up their hearts to show mercy to 
hiik I could, with a word, speaking in our churches, 
hare this poor man relieved; but I do not, because I 
Aink the Lord hath done it to train them up in works of 

There is in ijgypt, beside the river Nile, a &mous statue 
of giguitic siae, called sometimes the statue of Memnon, 
whiob, as was said in ancient times, stood stem, and still, 
and dumb, till the sunrise beams glowed upon it Then, at 
enee it gave out souiids of exceeding sweetness. What was 
bslieved of the statue of Memnon by old Nile, was it not 
■ado litendly true here by the river Charles? Cold, 
duib^ slone-like are these hearts all through the midnight 
but when the sun arises, that Sun of righteous- 
brif^t shtmng from the east|" there is sudden lifis, 
ttsva is melody. 

Of eourw, when mention is made of Natick Indians, no 
tribe is BMant They are Indians living at Na- 
of those who had been for the two or three 
jssn pravious at Nonantum, and some from Concord who 
flona la Ncnsniaai. The int thing t find about 








Jem in their Natiek home, w this, which Dr. FnnetB, of 
Cunbridge, who hw written a beaatifbl Life of Mr Eliot, 
•asigna to the 6th of August, 1651. 

On that daj, tlie praying Indians were collected from aU 
quarters, in order to decide on some form of goTerament for 
tteir new settlement It was onlj their own rillage affain 
ftrt thej wished to regulate, since, like other settlements, 
ttoy were subject to the magistrates of the colony. Mr. 
Bliot, who of course had been consulted, had adriscd them 
to adopt the phm given to the Israelites in the wilderness • 
that », to choose "able men, such as fear God, men of 
touUi, hating coTetousness, and make them rulcra of hun- 
dreds, rulers of fifties, and rulers of tens." These were to 
judge the people "in every small matter;" and "the haid 
oauses " were to be brought to the magistrates. 

About a hundred met in pursuance of this advice, and 
chose one nder of the one hundred, two rulers of fifty, «Kl 

ttey placed themselves in order, each individual sclecUnx 
fcjr himself the "ruler of ten » to whom he would belong 
Th» being «jttled. a solemn covenant was prepared, by 
which they Aould agree "to bo the Lord's pcopleTand to 
be^vemed by the word of the Loiti in all things " 
The Lidians had, bdbre this, «iked Mr. Eliot, why he 

S.^?5 c ~ «««» 'W, and he now prepo««i to JppJini 
2?2*J^ of September, for that purpose, and for the iS^^^^ 
•*^Hmofthecov«»ntju.tdr.wnup. During the seven 
*«*s that intemned, Cutshamakin, whom Mr. Eliot men- 
Jo«J« •eh»fs«4«m, eonstant in his prefession, though 

Ambtfal « re^ of the thoreughness of his beak" J5. 
•way from booe on a journey to the Namganset country. 


Bnglish settlement near Froviclence, hia party bought 
1 MnDg water," uid beoune rerj drank and atrnj, 
^ CvtihinMkin waa not acto&Ilj intoxicated, he 
some extent ahared in the miaoMidnot of the othen, 
inj nte, he had not exerted hia anthoritj to pre- 
, and hii &I1 oatued great anrow to his Chrirtian 

• the acdemn bat day airiTed, the Dorcheater n- 
Mag in this diagraoe, wai not allowed to teaoh ; but, 
Fin tank, he eeema to have claimed some praMdenoe, 
;, for he began the serrioe. Making first a 
1 of hia ain, he ofiered a ahort prayer, 
t heeonfcsaed that Satan aoted in his heart, b^ged 
vgiTen, and that the Spirit ot Ood might dwell in 
d set in him tot the time to oome. 
I aaother Indian prayed, repeated the parable of the 
iton both freely fin^Tm, and prayed again. An- 
Mk ftr his text the Lord's prayer, beeaoae this, said 
difofpnyer. When yet another had spoken, Mr. 
reaehed a sermon tm the right nse and manner of a 
ftsttng. Ba tcdd them that outward aota, like the 
' a mrt, are aebessaiy, hot the broken and belienng 
I the thing of nine, the kernel 
N now Booo, atid a abort intermission fidlowed, dor- 
Uk the qnertico was pn^osed to Mr. Eliot, if it 
lopar to take a ppe of tobaooo. 
ba aAanoon tbeie were other exhortations, and, as 
raw «■, Hr. Eliot addieaMd them from Denterono- 
th, iriMn it ii related how Israel entered into 
It wiA the Lord. Then their own oorenant, which 
m pnpand in Angoat, was reeited, ai ftUows : 
i^TCMnalna and ou ehildreD onto Qod, to be 



A PLACE or HaLB. iSo 

his people. He shall rule us in all our nffiiirs ; not only 
in our i^igton and the aflbita of the dmroh, bat also in ^ 
onr works and a&irs in this world. God shall rule over 
na. The Lord is oar Jadge ; the Lord is oar Lawgiver; 
the Lord is oar King ; he will save ns. The wisdom which 
God has taught ns in hia book, that shall guide ns and direot 
us in the way. 0, Jehofah I teach aa wisdom to find oat 
thy wiedom in thy Scriptarea. 

" Let the graoe ot Christ help oa, beoauae Chriat ia the 
wiadom of Ood. Send thy Spirit into oar hearts, and let it 
teach ns. Lord, take as to be thy pet^le, and let ns take 
thee to be oar God." 

To thia covenant, the rulers first, and then all the people, 
gare their Bsaent Next, a ooUection was taken for the poor, 
and by dark ni^t the work wu finished. Mr. Eliot calls 
this 24th of September, " The blessed day wherein these 
poor souls solemnly became the people of the Lord." For 
Bs, also, this day has a peenliar interest, since these pro- 
ofti«<ili"gs ooostitnted the first puUio and formal act of dnl 
goremnent among the Indians of Xorth America. 

At the next Natick leoture, a fortnight after, Mr. Endi- 
eot, who was now the goremor of the colony, and many other 
gentlonea, nited the new aettlement, inspected the bbase, 
the fint, the bridge, — were consulted about a proper place 
for a water-mill, to be built the next aammer, and attended 
the religiona serriee. The sermon was preached by an In- 
dian, from the parables, contained in the thirteenth chapter * 
of Matthew, of the treasnre hid in a field, and of the mar- 
ehantmaa seeking goodly pearls. He told his hearera that 
the field is the chnroh at Christ ; and the merchantman,' the 
seeker after God and trath, sooh as the poor, praying Indt- 
an; and be ai|[ed them to part with all sins, tdd ooitoma, 






ftiid Imnds, ftiid every hindranoe, and to oome to that 
wliere they might gather a churoh, and find that 
and enjoy thooe pearb — repentance, fiuth, par- 
the wonhip of Ood. 
Mr. Wilson, of Boetoni has not ket his interest in the 
converts, although we have not mentioned him of 
He went to this leotnre, and wrote an account of it 
a letter. He relates hcfw the governor and his sergeants 
l^pt at Dedham ; we (Mr. Wilson, Cousin Rawson, and 
), at Mr. Jackson's, near Watertown Mill. He goes 
: " We went next morning to Natick ; found Mr. Eliot 
there, and after we had been some hours there, and had 
all thingi, the governor came with about twenty 
firom Dedham, and made a like view, after which 
was a lecture or sermon in the f<ni, which the Indians 
made of whole trees, very handsome and firm, which 
a fiur house which the Indians have built after the 
J^glish manner, high and large, without assistance (except 
ma English carpenter a day or two to direct, about the 
of raising), with diimneys in it Here Mr. Elwi and 
company use to live. The Indian schoolmaster was there 
the children. He doth read, spell and write very 
^^%ll," that is, in English. 

In the Indian language, Mr. Eliot had compiled a short 

and written it out m a bode, which the sdiool- 

eould read, and which he tau^t the others. All 

Weepies be set for the ehiUren were the questions and 

^Mb of this eateeUsB. '' My object," says Mr. Eliot, 

% to coaunnnieate as much of Scripture as I can by writ- 

^t; ttsTO is no hope to see the BOik transhited, much less 

fOBlsd, in my days.'* 

Ur. WiboB*a deseriptioa of the ''fair house" the Indi- 






ans had built, goes on, firom the lower room where he found 
the school, to the upper where they hung up their valua- 
bles, and diought them as safe when the doors were open 
as when they were locked. He speaks particuhurly of the 
fruit-trees, of the gootf y plain over the river towards Ded- 
ham, their chief planting ground, and of ''the firm, high 
Ibot-bridge, arch-wise," which led to it This bridge had 
stood firm the winter before, while one built by the Eng- 
lish, at Medfield, had been carried away by the ice, or 
fioods. The Indians were very proud of their bridge. 
The fort, he tells us, was round and capacious. A hurge 
canopy of mats upon poles (there seems to have been no 
roof to the fort) had been erected finr Mr. Eliot and the 
chief of his company to sit under, and other smaller cano- 
pies for the rest of the assembly. The sanaps sat by 
themselves ; the squaws by themselves ; a hundred or 
more Indiims, most of them clad in English apparel 
The thirty English present, were Governor Winthrop, 
and the twenty horsemen of his escort, Mr. Wilson, 
'< Omsin Rawson," and those who went with them, and 
Mr. Eliot's company, who appear to have como the day 

We learn firom the letters of Mr. Wilson that the 
preacher was a man of middle age; — he prayed stand- 
ing ; then sat down on a stool in the midst, and preached 
with great devotion and gravity of manner, and becoming 
gestures ; making sundry mentkms of Jesus Christ, espe- 
cially at the beginning and ending, as if He were the soope 
of aU. The rest of the Indians attended with much rev- 
erence. After another prayer by this Indian, Mr. Eliot 
prayed, and preached finr an hour about coming to Christ 
and bearing his yoke ; then prayed again. Th^ did not 





mind a long senrice in thoee days. Einallj, the sohool- 
mister reed out of his book, line hj line, one of the pselms 
in metroi translated, by Mr. Eliot, into their tongae ; — 
an the men and women sang it together, in one of our ordi- 
ntiy English tones, melodiously. 

Last of all, Ooyemor Endioot and Mr. Wilson made 
short qpeeches, whieh Mr. Eliot translated and explained. 
Leaying Mr. Eliot there, the governor and his oompany 
rode to Dedham, Mr. Wilson and his friends to Watertown 
Mill again, all much refreshed in spirit with what they 
had seen. 

Mr. Endieot also writes of this visit, and adds some 
particnlars to tho description wo have already given. 
The meeting-house was fifty bet long, twenty-five broad, 
well sawed and firamed; the enclosore withoat the fi>rt^ 
aboat a quarter p( an acre. The Indians have learned 
to mow very well, he says; they exhibited some drams 
and braces, very neat He does not speak of the fnehdff 
of their hymns ; — perhaps he hod a nicer ear than good 
Mr. Wilsoiiy bat allows that '' they sang cheerfolly and 
pretty tonable." All listened earnestly, especially the 
Mefi, and he coaU hardly 'refirain firom tears of joy, to 
see their diligent attention to the Word. This ride of 
tkhrty-e^ght or finty miles he accoants one of the best 
jouMja he had made for many years. 

«• Bad ikOi tlM wfitoriiig li^t of d*7 
Ob rod[ aad •tretm and winding 

Soft wooij \mmkB aad srmoili gnj 
With aariber elovdi are evrtaiaed o'«r { 

TIm wide diar walen alMpiiig He 
PMwatfc tlM efeniag's wingi ef goU { 

JUd ea «Mr skiij treaet tlM iigr 




Fbr in tlM taai^ woodi* tlM sroand 

It itiewii Willi idln kaTes, thai He 
like erimsoa carpeli aU aimmd. 

Benoath a orimaoB eaaopgr. 
The itopiDg wuk^ with arrowi brif^tt 

FlKM the tireei*B waTiag naie ; 
The aaifwie aeeiH wrapt in li|^t« 

A floating lebe ef IM^ haia 
OAatamI theaarthcreakiag!** 



I :: 




I HE English Parliament had 
a little before this paused an 
act for the advancement of 
cmhzation and Christianitj 
among the Indians of New 
krf i__ ^ , . ^ , ^8l"nd, and a oorporation 

22" J*" V»W, W" imton t, tki xioie.,, and 
■"* "omij «d to tb oIgM, omianplrtd taS 
»« 4««,6« the fcirf. of tLk .0*1, thrt tk. 



schools among the Indians were supported, (Ui<l tooU, and 
seeds, and wool, and other materials for labor, provided for 
them. Among the tracts published b; the corporation was 
one entitled " Tears of Repentance," which contained among 
other things Mr. Eliot's " Brief Rcliition of the Proceed- 
ings of the Lord's Work among the Indians, in reference 
onto their Church-Estate." This was what that good man 
was intent on now. It was not enough that thejr were set- 
tling into a civiliied community, nith a form of govern- 
ment drawn from the scriptural model, that they had fields 
and houses, and » whool, and a meeting-house. Tbeae 
were but steps leading to his tme grent object, that of gath- 
ering his GoDverts into a Christian church. 

At difierent times in Natick, sometimes aa Sunday when 
Mr. Eliot was there, sometimes on a loctoro-day, the Lidian 
conrerts had made public confession of their former sins, 
and in the speech included a stotomont of their present feel- 
ings, and amount of Christian knowledge. Mr. Eliot had 
written down these confessions, with which he was so well 
satisfiod, and so hopeful, as he says, that there was among 
them fit matter fiir a church, that he requested the eldoTB 
of the churches about Bostm, to meet and hear tbom read. 
His request was complied with, and Mr. Wilson, of Boston, 
Mr. Allen ot Dodham, with Elder Heath and others, ap- 
proved; and, after a day of bating and prayer for the Divine 
guidance, a second mwe public meeting was appointed, and 
notice sent to all the ohoreheswith the names of Uie Indian 

This solemn assembly met on tiie 18th ot October, 1652, 
at Nati^ The first part <^ tbe morning was spent in 
inayer, after which Mr. Eliot made an address, and two of 
tbe Indians did the saoM, from some portion of the Sorip- 




_ •• 41 iM-l . 



tores. By this time it was nearlj eleven o'clock. Many 
reverend elders were present^ to whom Mr. Eliot proposed 
that tliej should ask the Indians questions about the ftmda- 
mental doctrines of religion. This be thought would be a 
fiurer and more satis&ctory way of ascertaining their knowl- 
edge, than their own speeches, or his inquiries. But the 
reverend elders decided that the candidates should first make 
a statement of their own " experience in the Lord's work 
upon their hearts," hj means of which some opinion could 
be formed of the degree of their religious knowledge, and 
afterwards, if necessarj, questions might be put to them 
loudung anj particular point 

Totherswamp (he bad been one of the Nonantom Indi- 
ans) was the first who spoke. Hethusb^an: '^lamfess, 
in the presence of the Lord, before I prayed many were my 
sins; not one good word did I speak, not one good thought 
did I think, not one good action did I do. I did act all 
sins, and fun was my heart of evil thoughts. When the 
English did tell me of God, I cared not for it; I thought it 
enouf^ if they kved me. I had many friends that loved 
ne, and I tfiought if they died, I would pray to God, and 
afterward it 80 came to pass ^ then was my heart ashamed ; 
to pray I was ashamed, and if I prayed not I was ashamed; 
a double ahame was upon me; when God byyou taught us, 
very muck ashamed was my heart" We have not room 
fir all his ezpramons of humility and fiuth. Here is an- 
other senleiioe. ^' But when I heard that word of Ghristi 
Christ said Repent and believe, and Cihrist seeth who ro- 
P«ted^— then I said, dark and weak is my soul, and I am 

CM k davkiie«; I am a vei7 ainfiil man, and now I pray to 

li a inMr coofoasMiii written down by Mr. EUot^ b^ 








had used these words. '' When you ask me why do I love 
God, I answer, because he giveth me all outward blessings, 
as food, clothing, children, all gifts of strength, speech, 
hearing; especially that he giveth us a minister to teach us, 
and giveth us government ; and my heart feareth lest jov- 
emment should reprove me ; but the greatest mercy of all 
is Christ, to give us pardon and life." 

Those were his words before, and in this speech at the 
meeting, when, Mr. Wilson says, it was evident they were 
much daunted to speak before so great and grave an assem- 
bly as that was, — he puts the same thought into difierent 
language. '' This is the love of God to roe, that he giveth 
me all mercies in this world, and for them all I am thank- 
ful ; but I confess I deserve hell. I cannot deliver myself, 
but I give my soul and my flesh to Christ, and I trust my 
soul with him, for he is my Redeemer, and I desire to call 
upon him while I live." 

When Totherswamp had ended, Mr. Allen asked how he 
found his heart now in the matter of repentance. His 
answer was : '* I am ashamed of all my sins ; my heart is 
broken for them, and mclteth in me ; I am angry with my- 
self for my sins, and I pray to Christ to take away my sins, 
and I desire that they may be pardoned." It was now 
desired that no more questions should be asked, lest time 
should Ijp wanting to hew them all speak 

Waban was next called upon. As he was our first ac- 
quaintance among the Christian Indians, and we have a 
partiality for him, we will copy the whole of his speedi. 

*' Before I heard of God, and before the English came 
into this country, many evil things my heart did work, 
many thoughts I had in my heart I wished for riches, I 
wished to be a witch, I wished to be a sachem; then, wbrn 

• / »j 


■oiuKTini An> itincc 

the English cune, still nty he&rt did the same things; 
when the English tsnght me of God (I coming to their 
hooses), I wonld go ont of their doors, and idmdj yeut I 
knew nothing; when the English taught me I wu angrj^ 
with them. Bat a little while ago, after the great sickness, 
I ooosidered what the English do, and I bad some desire to 
do sa they do; and after that I began to work as they worlc; 
and Uten I wondered how the English cune to be so etroog 
to labor; then I thought I shall quickly die, and I feved 
lest I shonld die before I prayed to God; then I tbonght, 
if I pr*yed to God in onr language, whether eoald God 
tmderstaiKl mj prayers in onr langnsge ; therefore I did 
ask Mr. Jackson and Hr. Mayhew if God understood 
prayers in our language. Tbey answered me, God doth 
understand all languages in the world. Bat I do not know 
how to confess, and little do I know of Christ I fev I 
■hal] not beliere a great while, and reiy slowly. I do not 
ksow what grace is in my heart ; there is but little good in 
me ; bot this I know, that Christ hath kept all God's com- 
mandments for OB, and that Christdoth know all onr hearts; 
and now I desire to rep^t of all my biim. I neither hare 
done, Bor csd do, the commandments of the Lord ; bat I am 
ashamed of all I do, and I do repent of all my sins, ercn of 
all that I do know of I dosire that I may be coDTerted 
from all my sins, and that I might believe in Christ, and I 
desire Him. I dielike my sins, yet I do not truly ^nj to 
God in my heart : no matter for good words, aO is the tnie 
heart ; and this day I do not so much desire good words, as 
thotooghly to opoi my heart I oonfeas I can do nothing, 
bat dewrre damna ti on ; only Christ can help me and do 
Ibrm*. Bat I hare aothmg lossy fw myself that is good; 

I judge that I am . ..v-^ . . 

^^ d«=-er«d panu rT^T^ '='-«« '^t. hot Chris. 
This address of fVkhan-. 

'^ ««■ -mid .Le ^ i^rt "*' '""' """"a 
eicmpluy j^ ,„ ' " P" telimonj u He 

^ •" » ^»»'^XZT^ '":»'' "" ■■- ^'■^. 

«■ wh.. rcpco,, MTilte »a^ r,"™"; ""°S •"«' 

"»nng U«., CauWil*" TV" P"^. "«"« "W .0. 
"(•ieaheSmk^TJ™*")- B« "«1 he Uttd p«,. , 





pnj. He pnjed, not finr the lo?e of God, bnt for the love 
of tfie piece he liTed in. Ho leerned the ten commandmentB, 
and then the whole catechism, jet afterwards cast them all 
awaj again. ** Then," said he, " was mj heart filled with 
fcllj, and mj mm great sins." From this man's speech 
' we learn a new instance of the way in which Mr. Eliot was 
aeeostomed to seise ereiy opportouity for teaching his In- 
dian flocL Moneqnassnn had one day asked the qnestion, 
liow he shoald get wisdom. He says Mr. Eliot's answer 
did a little torn his heart from sin to seek after God, and 
the next lectnre^y Mr. Eliot tanght that word of God, *'If 
my offou lack wiidom^ lei him ask of God^ whogivetk 
Da off men liberaUy^ and upbraideth not.'' 

This man spoke of his learning to read, and said when he 
ftfBt heard they were to go to Natick, his heart disliked it ; 
ha knred Cohannet Then he was troubled that he was not 
wOling to follow Christ to make a church. His fiimily fell 
aaek, his wifis died, one of his children died ; he thought it 
was because he would not follow Christ Then he cried for 
paidoo, and he belicTcd. Hearing it was a shame for men 
to wear long hahr, and that there was no such custom in the 
eharehes, he thought he did not.lo?e long hair, but he did, 
and fimnd it Tery hard to cut it o£ This he now thought 
abftil, and asked to be fiirgiYen. 

Moneqvaasun'a address, as was perhaps to be expected of 
a adiool-masler, was longer than any other. He ended 
with, *<I belioTe in Christ, and ever, so long as I lire, I 
will pray to God| and do all 4he good ways he com- 


The nanratiTe of Mr. Eliot goes on to state thai as the 
IdUana wave skw of speech, and none of the English pee* 
pla pnssBl understood what waa said, exoqpt as he mter- 

preted. the groyer sort (bought (he time long; many others 
went out; some, who remained, whispered toff^*»^;J«f 
(here was a great confusion in (he house and without 
One other Indian, howeyer, was called upon to speak, 
Ponampum ; after which, the time being much spent, and 
the plsce remote in the woods, and the nights cold and 
long, with no convenient lodgings for so large a company, 
and as there was no interpieter, except Mr. Elio^ it was 
dedded not to piXKJeed any further that day. In orf^^^^ 

the Indians need not be discouraged at the delay, »"• ™ 
told (hem that the magistrates and elders were rejoiced and 
plessed, but that, for want of time, tiieir church could not 

then be gathered. iova-*-^ 

Although there was no more speaking on this 18th Uoto- 
ber, at Natick, Mr. Eliot wrote down the confessions of mai^ 
other Indians, which he communicated to the dden, and 
which were published in tho little book called " Tears of 

Repentance." ^ „ , , 

Among these was the confession of Peter, a ruler of 
ten, who used to hunt and shoot on the Lord's day, and 
who could not deliver himself; and, therefore, trusted 
Christ with his soul; -of John Specne, who wys he 
greaUyUted labor, but now beliercs the woid of God, Stx 

day, ,haU thou labor r —ot Robin Spcene, a powaw, 
who feared lest, because of his great sins, his dead cWWren 
were not gone to heaven, yet whose heart rejoiced because 
one of them prayed to God before it died ; - of Ni»lH>hk<». 
••a bashful man;" — of Magus, who used to think tta 
world was of itseW; and all tho people in it grew up of 
themsdves;- of Poquanum, who did not use to beliCTe 
that the Bible was God's book, but thought wise men made 
it; —of Nookan, whose heart feareth because he does not 




1 year 1G53, there was war 
bctwccD England and llolknd, and 
in consequence the Dutcli and Eng- 
•^^ lish ixAomca on tliis side of the 
AtkntM wen mt on friendly tomu with each other. The 
MuB ae h uaetU gnrenmiGnt rooeircd infomuition from wiine 
Lidiina, that the goraitor of the Dutch oolray at New 
Tot^ had been attempting to penoado them to fonn « 
gnat eonfedera^ for the deetraction of the English wttle- 
manti. The r^ort waa spread and believed that then was 
■wb a OBntfinej, and tlMt the Piving Indians wen ea- 

A lthowgh tba gorenmwntof Manaohvsetia did not ondit 
tUs leport, ft good many^ of the settlen thooght it was tra*, 




and onr poor Indiana began to be looked npcn with sospi- 
oion, if not with actnal ill-will. 

While snch was the case, Mr. Eliot thought it not pni> 
dsnt to take an; steps abont the plan he had ao much at 
heart, of organising a church at Natick. He went on qui- 
etly preparing them for less troubled times. Ho taught 
them, as before, hj preaching and bj conversation, and 
translated into their language more and more of the Bible, 
aod tried to keep them patient under the nnjnst, though 
not very unnatural, Buspicions of their English neighbors. 

Anotiier reason for waiting was this. The " Tears of 
Bopontanoo " had been sent to England to be printed, and 
Ur. Eliot wanted to receive copies of this book for diatri-. 
bntion among the people in New Enghmd ; he also expected 
letters from friends in the mother country, and especially 
fimn the Society for Propagating the Gospel. 

Towards the end <£ tiie year, the litde books arriTod. 
Not long attfirwards a great meeting was hold in Doston, 
at which wen present oommiasionon tiom all the Now 
England colonies; and hen Mr. Eliot, the true and icaloua 
friend of the Indians, proposed that as his brathrcn had seen 
the OMfessions, the converts should be further examined as 
to their knowledge of Christianity, and if the result proved 
satisfactory, and it should appear that their conduct was 
correct, and " religion was to be seen in thdr lives,", boum 
action should be takca towards "oalling them up unto 
flhnroh estate." 

As his pn^Kval met with general i^piobation, Mr. Eliot 
appointed a meeting of the elders, in his meeting-bonse, at 
Boxbory, on the 18th of June, 1654. He wrote letters to 
all who wen aoquainted with the Indian hngnage, request- 
ing them to be pmtmt, aod gan notioe to all the Indiana, 





in order that they might dewailj prepare for the ooeasioiL 
Thqr kept a daj of fiieting at Natick, with reference to it, 
and doubtless, for some weeks, the approaching examination 
ooenpied most of their thoughts. 

But about ten days before the appointed time, something 
occurred which greatly grieved and discouraged Mr. Eliot 
and his friends. The Indians, unhappily, had always 
shown themselves fend of intoxicating drink. Its fierce 
ttdtements were irresistibly alluring to their rude, uncul- 
tivated natures, and there were never wanting unprincipled 
white men to sell them the poison, to the grief of the better 
sort in both races. The laws of the Massachusetts colony 
•trictly ferbade the sale of spirituous liquors to the Indians, 
under a penal^ of forty shillings a pint ; a penalty which 
these dealers often escaped, for their Indian customers would 
nibmit to pay a fine, or even suffer whipping, rather than 
betray them. 

Of course, at Natick, as in other communities, all the 
professing Christians were not equally sincei^, nor equally 
prayerful and consistent Some, Mr. Eliot speaks of as 
nnsoond, whose conduct was constantly bringing reproach 
CO the rest, giving occasion to many, and even to good peo- 
ple, to say, " Do what you will for his improvement, an 
Indian will be an Indian stilL" 

About ten days, then, before the examination at Boxbury, 
dunse of these less reputable Indians had obtamed several 
quarts of mm, and were holding a drunken revel near 
Watortown. Totherswamp, a ruler at Natick, whose was 
Ae first conftssion given in the hist chapter, had a young 
■Ml about eleven years of age. This boy he sent, for some 
•OfB and fish, to the very pboe where these Indians were 
drinking. In a spirit of drunken misdiief ther indnn^ 

the child to take a few spoonfuls of the " strong water," 
and then, when his head was giddy, so that he hardly knew 
what he did, caused him to swallow a large quantity, till he 
was completely intoxicated. 

Then followed what we often sec with wicked people, — 
the true mood of their father, the wicked One, first to 
tempt to sin, and then to mock the sinner. 

One of them began to say to the boy, " Now we will see 
whether your father will punish us for drunkenness, seeing 
you are irunk with us for company." 

By and by they quarrelled with each other, and fought ; 
and the poor boy lay there all night on the ground, in a 

drunken sleep. 

Totherswamp was not well pleased, we may suppose, that 
his son made so much delay in his errand. The day had 
passed, and he did not return with his com and fish ; and 
when at hst news was brought of what liad happened, the 
fiithcr was very much vexed and mortified. Other feelings 
mingled with his grief as a Christian and as a parent Ilis 
authority as a ruler had been set at naught by these three 
men, whom, it would appear, he had formerly punished 
several times for this very sin. 

Totherswamp called Waban and the other rulers together, 
to consult as to what should be done : and this court, as we 
may term it, decided that the men had been guilty of four 
offences ; — first, drunkenness ; second, making the boy 
drunk ; third, reproachful contempt of their rulers ; and 

fourth, fighting. , ,. , i i. 

Mr. Eliot heard of this a&ir on Friday, a bttle before 
he took horse to go to Natick for the Sabbath. The tidings 
sank his spiriU extremely, and he said, afterwards, thst 
nothing had ever so much afflicted him. That such a 




CMue fcr tetiidsl aboald be given, just on the verj ere of 
the aooomplishment of hie plsos for forming hie church, 
was Terj painfol to him. He says he did not know what to 
do. His Terj heart fiuled him. What made the trial par- 
ticakrt J hard to bear, was the fact that ono of the offenders 
had been his interpreter and his assistant in translating the 

Befiyre Mr. Eliot set off for Natick, he hod some conver- 
sation on the sabjoct with one of his elders at Roxbury, and 
received from the good man snch gracions words of encour- 
agement, u greatlj to rcliere his spirit ; and he was enabled 
to begin his jonmej with " a soal quiet in the Lord.'^ 

We do not know how long it would take him to ride from 
his house to Katick, and we hare no account of his com- 
panions, if he had such, nor of his thoughts by the way. 
Though his soul was quiei^ as he says, he could scarcely be 
•a dieerftil as usual. I think the countlees wild roses with 
which the country was filled, in the beginning of July, were 
less fitir to him that day, and the close breath of the forest 
mora oppressive. And why 1 Three or four Indians had 
been drinking and fighting; that was all. Could that dis- 
iaih the usually serene man, -as his horse paced along 
through the woods 1 It was only sin ; only Indians ; a 
trifling matter to the traders at Watertown, who sold the 
fiery poison ; less than a trifle to many persons in the cap- 
ital of the colony. But to Mr. Eliot it was disappoint- 
ment and grie£ He had taught these men, had watched 
over Ihemi had hoped for them and prayed ; and with one, 
tibe int e r p ra ter , he had been in habit of constant mteroourse. 
And iKnr it seemed that all had been almost in vain. Be- 
ndssy the evfl did not stop with the parties immediately 
Then was danger of iigury to the whole com- 



munity of which they were a part. Would not even 
darling phm of a church for the Indians be frustrated, and 
thus their comfort and progress in the Christian life be 
prevented 1 

Whatever were good Mr. Eliot's thoughts that day, on 
went his horse, till he had crossed the Charles and was in 
Natick. Wo may be sure the Indians were looking out for 
the arrival of their teacher, and as soon as the distant tramp 
of his horse's feet was heard, some one would run to toll the 
rest, *' He is coming; he is just at hand." The court of the 
rulers was still sitting. Very soon they went to him, and 
reUted the whole business with much trouble and grict To 
Totherswamp it was '' a great shame and breaking of heart," 
and he knew not wlmt to do. Ho quoted to Mr. Eliot our 
Saviour's woitls, *'He that loveth father or mother mora 
than me is not worthy of me." Ho thought, if he rafused 
to correct his child, it would prove that he did not lore 
Christ Abraham, he said, loved God, and would have 
skin his son out of obedience ; how, then, could he, Toth- 
erswamp, who was only called on to punish his son, refuse 
to do it 7 These things the afflicted father spoke with much 
emotion, and not with dry eyes, nor could Mr. Eliot rafrain 

firom tears. 

Some one present ramarked that the child was not so 
guilty as they who made him drunk ; but Totherswamp 
said he had often warned his son to take heed of evil com- 
pany, and to fear sin ; as the boy had believed Satan and 
sinners .mora than he had believed his fitther, it was fitting 
he should be punished. 

With this, the rulers loft Mr. EUoi, and proceeded to 
manage the affiur in their own way. The court decided 
that the three men should sit in the stocks <<a good spaoe 





of ttne," and Uienoe be brooght to the whipping-poet, and 
reoenre twentj hehee each. The boj was to be put in the 
itocka a little while, and the next daj his father was to 
whip him in the achool, in presence of all the children. 
All which jodgment we are told was execnted. 

When the men were to be whipped, the constable brooght 
then up one after the other to the tree where they receired 
their punishment One of the mlers then said, ''that 
punishment for sin was the commandment of God, and its 
intentioo to do the offender good, and bring him to repent- 
ance ;" — he then exhorted the culprits to repentance and 
amendment of life. A second ruler addressed the poor 
fallows as follows : " Tou are taught in catechism that the 
wages of shi are all miseries and calamities in this life, and 
also death and eternal damnation in hell. Now jou feel 
some amart as the fruit of your sin, and this is to bring yon 
to repentance, that so yon may escape the rest" 

Wlien he had done, a tliird ruler, turning towards the 
peoplci who stood round about to the number of two hun- 
dred, said, " Ilear, all ye people ; this is the commandment 
of the Lord, that thus it should be done unto sinners ; and, 
dierefore, let all take warning by this, that you commit not 
wmA ams, lest yon incur these punishments." 

There is something in the whole transaction very unlike 
imr eosamoii ideas of the wild freedom of the Indian life. 
TIm three oftnders seem to haye quietly submitted to their 
wUppiag, and to the reproofii of their rulers. Would you 
Bot hate eqieeled them rather to run off into the forest, or 
to join some band of their feDows who had not agreed to 
AmnhsBness a punishable offence 1 

The gimnty and eider with which the matter was con* 
fafonUy with some of their M customs. 


This, for inrtMoe, is w •ooonnt of • etnnge w.y m whicb 
ther used to punidi chiWren tod semnto : 

They took some bayberry rooto, and «s»pcd them mto • 
hotUe of water; then, msking the h^s who were to be 
panished lie down npon the ground, Ae e««rfK»n«r put 
his knees on their srms, wd, turning their heads back, took 
K«ne of the water mto his mouth, and squirted it mto their 
noses, two or three times, till the boys were nearly strangled. 
This was calkjd Mcdomhumar, or great punishment 

After the Sunday with his NaUck congregation, Mr. 
Eliot went back to Roxbury ; and the sympathisii^ fnon«^ 
who had before his journey shared and Ughtenod his gne^ 
listened with great interest, and with many expressions of 
mtitnde to God, to his ministers account of the course 
which had been pursued at the Indian 8ettlcmen^ the meet- 
ing of the rulers, and the righteous sentence they had pro- 
nounced. The eWer said, and said truly, that the notice 
taken of the oficnce would do mwe good than the sin couH 
do hurt, and reminded Mr. Eliot that he had cause to be 
thankful for the issue of the erent they had so deeply 

lamented. * m t. 

And, indeed, the prompt and Tigorons acUon of Tothcr- 
swamp, and the other Indian rulers, had, by expressing their 
sense of the evil of drunkenness, relieted Mr. Eliot of a diffi- 
culty. The English churches must see that the Indians were 
belined to keep up a pure discipline in their community, and, 
if formed into a church, would not tolerate sinful practices. 

In &ct, this misconduct at Watertown seems to haTS 
pven rise to no objeetion to the intended meeting at Box- 
bury ; and it aoooidingly took plaoe en the day ^ipointed, 
the 18th of June. 

Monequaasun, the aohoobnaiter, was now sick of oonramp- 




ikmi and eonld not attend. Mr. Majhew, a good Indian 
Bcliolar, of whom much will be said hj and by, was there 
with an interpreter. The way in which this meeting was 
oondocted shows the fiiimess of Mr. Eliot He advised 
that any one should ask such questions of the Indians as he 
ehoee ; and that if to him any interpretation of an Indian's 
answer should seem not strictly accurate, he should mention 
his doubt at once, that such words and phrases might be fully 
explained by the interpreters. *' For my desire/' says Mr. 
Eliot) and well he might say so, '' my desire was to be true 
to Christ, to their souls, and to the churches." 

One question put to the candidates was. How do you 
know the Scripture to be the word of God f They answered, 
Because they found that it changed their hearts, and wrought 
in them wisdom and humility. 

Mr. Mayhew thought the word hohpo6onk, translated 
humility, did not bear exactly that meaning ; and the inter- 
preters were called on to explain and decide. Mr. Eliol 
was proved to be right, and was pleased that his brother 
Mayhew rested satisfied. 

Mr. Eliot at first attempted to write all the questions and 
answers ; but as he was employed in rendering the elders' 
questions into the Indian language, and then in turning the 
Indians' answers into English, he found himself unable to act 
also as reporter to the meeting, unless at too great a sacrifice 
of the time of the assembly ; so Mr. Walton wrote down a 
veeoid, and afterwards furnished Mr. Eliot with a copy. 

The number of catechumens was eight, and their answers 
ahowad a good understanding of the main points of the 
Ghristiaa religion. This solemn and important day at Box- 
buy was kmg called by the Indians, The day of asking 
qwstioiis; in their languagOi NatooComuhteaA EesuL 






Loid ! in liesTea, thy dwdUag plie% 
Hour Um prftiaet of owr noe. 
And while hearing, ki thy grnoe 
Dewi of sweet IbrgiTenees ponr I 
While ire know, benignant King I 
That the praiaee whieh we bring 
Are a worthleae ofiering. 
Till tl^ bkeeing makee it more. 

More of tmth, and more of mighty 
More of lore, and more of light. 
More of reaaon and of right, 
Fkimi thy pardoning graoe be given ; 
It ean make the hnmUcat song 
Sweet, aooeptable, and etrong « 
Ae the etraina the angela* throng 
Fenr amwid the throne of heai 





'■• f 





N D now, ire say, a church 
will Btmiglilwft^ be orgsD- 
iicd at Nntick, and we 
\ shall have full accounts 
of the Bolcmn ecrvicea of 
a iliijr so inlGresting in 
every respect, as that on 
which a band of wild, red 
Indians meet as recog- 
nited disciples of the Rty 
ilcemcr, ud eat bread and drink wine in afiectionaie remem- 
brance of Him, 

No t It was not until 1660, or six years after " the day 
of uking questions," that this desire of Mr. Eliot was aooom- 
pliahed. Well was it for him that the golden threads of 
patienoe were woren into the noble texture of his soul. In 

all these jears he never lost hope ; ho never remitted liia 
industry. If ho may not yet administer to them the com- 
fortable sacraments of the church, he can translate, and 
teach, and print catechisms for their use. lie can prepare 
for them the boolcs of Genesis and St. Itlatthcw, and furnish 
them, each successive month, with new portions of the Holy 
Word. Ho can spend many hours in every week in teach- 
ing and conversing with them. He can write frequent lot- 
len to interest others in their welfare. Do you suppoee 
that either at morning, at evening, or at noon-day, he Culed 
to pray for them to " the Master of life 1 " 

I have read that a famous German poet used for his seal 
a star set in a blue ground, with tbomottO; "Without baste, 
without rest," It seems to me this might have been Mr, 
Eliot's seal and motto. Very serene was his soul, with 
heaven all about it. We have noticed, too, his "courage 
that intimidated those savages whom hia love could not 
melt." And he had need of it. Cutsham^in was not the 
only sachem whose haughty menaces he bad fearlessly 
encountered. Oflen in great personal danger, ho seemed 
quite indiffeient to it He met threats with calmness, and 
soothed violence with words of peace. Driven out of oaa 
wigwam, he entered another, and still taught and prayed. 
. On one occa^oo, when a chief had told him to depart, and 
to come there no more, at his peril, he made answer, " I 
am about the work of God, and God is with me. I fear 
not all the sachems in the country. I shall go on in my 
work, and do you touch me if you dare." And no one 
dared ! 

Perhi^, next to Mr. Eliot, the best and most disintei^ 
esled &iend of the Indians in the vicinity of the Bay, waa 
Ur. Gookin, of Cambridge. In the year 1656, he wu 







appointed general superintendent of all the Indiana under 
tlie control of the MjMsachiiaetta col<mj. Before that, he 
had exercised some authority as magistrate, and was much 
respected and beloTcd bj the natives. We find him con- 
atantlj going about with Mr. Eliot, to the diflferent places 
where the Indians had their dwellings. While the one acted 
as their spiritoal adfiser, the other helped them to regalate 
their temporal affairs. Very good friends were these two, 
though apparent]/ of characters quite dissimilar. Mr. 
Oookin is spoken of by one writer as "a man of good 
vnderstanding, rigid in his religious and political prinoi- 
pleS| aealons, actiye, of inflexible integrity and exemplary 
piety, disinterested and bencTolent, a firm patriot, and, aboTC 
all, firieodly to the Indians." That is a good character, I 
tfiink, though it seems to haye wanted some of the sweetness 
of Mr. Eliot's. 

Let us see what we can glean of eyents that happened 
before 1660. In the first place, Cutshamakin was no longer 
alternately sinning and repenting at Dorchester. He died 
certainly before 1655, and the last we actually know of 
him is that confession he made of misconduct, at the Natick 
fiat, September 24th, 1651. After his death, his nephew, 
Wampatnck, the son of old House-a-fire, was ruler of the 
Oohannei Indians. Cdiannet was the name of the district 
which mduded the present towns of Taunton and Baynham. 
I fappose an the Indians from the Neponset to the Taunton 
rifCTy and on the branches of the latter stream, might be 
called Gohannet Indians. • The schoolmaster, Monequassuni 
has toU us thai he was of Cohanneti and loyed it so much 
' Aal he was y«ry unhappy at remoring to Natick. 

Ut. Elioi's first phn had been to assemble all the fimi- 
Sac of pnjiDg IndianSy at one place of rasideiioey and 

t Natick had been chooen for that purpose. But mostof the 
Gohannet Indians were unwilling to remoye thither. They 
; had a preference for a spot in their own territory, where 
ihey desired Mr. Eliot to fix the new settlement ; but for 
yarious reasons, he thought Natick a more eligible site. 
After this, the Gohannet Indians seem to haye conceiyed a 
suspicion that their teacher had less aflbction for them than 
for other Indians, and, although they drew together into a 
community, for improyement in ciyiUsation and Christian- 
ity, it was at the place of their own choice. This was 
Punkapoag, called sometimes Pakemit, now Stoughton. 
The Indian name signifies " a spring that rises out of red 
earth.'' It was about fourteen miles south of Boston, and 
two from the Blue Hill, and is usually spoken of as the 
second praying town, Natick, of course, being the first 

Mr. Eliot was soon conyinced that, instead of collecting 
all the Ghristian Indians together into one place, it would 
be more for their adyantage to liye in smaller companies. 
Their roying habits made plenty of room necessary to their 
comfort and contentment, and large numbers at one point 
would haye rendered it more difficult fiyr them to gain a 
liyelihood. When we read of an Indian town, we must not 
think of closely-built streets, with houses and shops. We 
must jMCture to ourselyes a score or two of wigwams, scat- 
tered hero and there, along a stream, or on the borders of a 
lake ; the streets mere fix>tpaths winding about among fir- 
trees and whortleberry bushes. In Punkapoag, for instance, 
there were six thousand acres belonging to the yilkge, 
which at no time contained more than twelfe fiunllies, or 
about sixty indiyiduals. 

Hassanamesit, now Grafton, was the third town of Phty- 
ing Indiana. Its nafne means *<a place of small stones." 







It laj more to the west thaa the other townSy being forty 
nilee from Botton, on the Nipmuck, now the Blidcstone 

The next praying town was twelve miles to the nordi- 
east^ near the English Marlborough, and about thirty miles 
west of Boston. Its name was Okommakamesit This 
town, with Natick and three others, was in what we now 
call Middlesex county. One of tho three was Nashobah, 
now Littleton. It lay still further north than Marlborough, 
and was chiefly settled by Tahaitawan and his Concord 
Indians, from whose << Grassy Brook " it was distant but 
seren or eight miles. 

About half way between Natick and Hassanamesit was 
Magunkaquog (pronounced Magtinkook)^ which signifies 
<< a place of great trees." This is the pleasant town of 
Hopkinton, — pleasant even now, two burred years latery 
when there are more houses and fewer " great trees." 

The seventh praying town was Wamesit, tho capital of 
the Fkwtuckets, situated at the junction of the Cononti and 
Merrimack riyers, where Lowell now stands. We remember 
Mr. Eliot's risit to the great sachem Passaconaway, in 
1648, as set down in our seventh chapter. After his first 
• reception of Christianity, he always remained a stead&st 
friend to the English. He lived to a very great age. Mr. 
Gookm mentions an interview with him at Pawtucket, when 
ke was about a hundred and twenty yean old. 

Li 1660, an English gentleman, who had been much 
naoDg these Pawtuckets, was invited to a great dance and 
ftasti at which, among other ceremonies, Ptessaoonaway 
■Mda a fiurewell speech to his children and people. '< I am 
mom nady to die/' said the aged sachem, '<and not likely 
to lie you over meet together any mdre. I will now leave 

t ,. .] 

this word of counsel with you, that you may take heed how 
you quarrel with the English ; for though you may do them 
much mischief, yet assuredly you will sll be destroyed, and 
rooted off the earth, if you do; for I was as much an enemy 
to the English, at their first coming into these parti, as any 
one whatsoever, and did try all ways and means possible to 
have destroyed them, at least to have prevented them from 
settling down here, but I could na way effect it; therefore 
I advise you never to contend with the English, nor make 
war with them." The ways and means mentioned in tliis 
speech were the arts of sorcery which Passaconaway in his 
capacity of powaw had tried against the English. 

Wannalancet succeeded his fiither, as chief of the Paw- 
tucket confederation, and, in compliance with these injunc- 
tions, always maintained peace with the English. One of 
Passaconaway's daughters was married, in the year 1662, to 
a son of '' the New Moon," — that sachem, as we remember, 
who had lived on the Mystic river in Medford. He left 
three sons who are mentioned in the early records of the 
colony. One of them, called by the English Sagamore 
James, was sachem of Lynn and Marblehead. He lived on 
Sagamore hill, near the eastern end of Lynn beach, and 
commanded not more than thirty or forty men. It is related 
of this James, that having been defrauded of twenty beaver- 
skins, by a trader who had afterwards gone to England, he 
went to Governor Winthrop to learn how he should obtain 
recompense ; and, receiving from the governor a letter of 
introduction to a merchant in London, actually folk>wed his 
debtor across the ooean, and obtained his due. This sachem 
died as early as 1688, of small-poz, whidi also swept away 
most of his people. 
His brother, known as Sagamore Johui was "a handsome 



' r 

If ' 

It ■ 


jODDg man," sajs Governor Dudley " conrersaDt nith us, 
•ffecttng EDgltsh apparel and houses, and speaking well of 
our God." He lived, before tlie English came, at the old 
residence of his father, in Medford, afterwards at Winnis- 
imet, DOW Chelsea. He died the same year with his 
brother, of the same disease. This Sagamore John, 
"Prince of Massachuactts," is repeatedly mentioned by our 
early writers, as having been, from their Srat landing, 
"more courteous, ingenuous, and loving to the English, 
than other" sachcma. Ho desired to learn and speak their 
language, and was fond of imitating them in their behavior 
and apparel. At one time he was ill, and Mr. Wilson, of 
Boston, with one of his deacons, went to visit him. When 
they came to the wigwam they heard a great noise, and, 
looking in, found the place full of Indiana, and a number 
of powtws about the sick man, earnestly apostrophizing his 
disease in otiJer to charm it. When the powaws had fin- 
ished their ceremonies, all kept silence, and Mr. Wilson and 
the deacon went in. They found the sachem " far spent, 
his eyes set in bis bead, bis speech leaving him, his mother, 
the old squaw-sachem, sitting weeping at his head." Mr. 
Wilson Gist remarked that the powaws could kill Sagamore 
John, but only God could save him, and then, after a prayer 
for the sick man's recovery, administered some medicine. 
The narrative goes on to say : " Soon a^er, the Sagamore 
looked np, and three days after went abroad on hunting. 
Tim providence so for prevailed with him that he began to 
hearken after our God and his ways, and did resolve and 
promisa lo leave the Indians and come to lire with us, &c. 
Bnt hii neighbor Indians, Sagamores and Powaws, hearing 
of this, thmtened to kill him if he did so degenerate from 
kia eountry gods and religion ; he thereupon fell off, and 


took up bis Indian coureo of life again. Whatsoever facility 
may seem to offer itself of the conversion of the Indians it 
IS not so easy a matter for them to bold out, no, not in » 
semblance of profession of the true religion." 

Another writer gives an account of this poor Sagamore's 
last moments. Being struck with death, we aw told he 
be^n fearfully to Kprooch himself that he hud not lived 
with the English, and known their God. "But now I 
must die. The God of the English is much angry with me, 
and wdl destroy me. Ah ! I was afniid of the scoffs of 
^ese wicked Indians. But my child simll live with the 

S v'^wr 'Y'" ^"^ '■^"' ' """ ^'''^- I'" give 
him to Mr Wilson ; he much good man, and much love me." 
The English m.nisters, we are informcl, were deeply moved 
to see the Indians depart this life without the knowledge of 
GodmChnst -and therefore we™ ve^r frequent o^ong 
them, for all the noisomenoss of their disease, entering their 
wigwams, and exhorting them in the name of the Lord." 

self before Uie dying " Prince of Massachusetts," who thus 
committed his only child to his care : - Mr. Wilson, by and 
by, me dead, may be my son live, you take him, to teach 
Xfhirfath::^^- ^---'^-er.di^notlong 

brother, wb«e death occurred at the same time with that 
of Ch^tataubut, m 1038; but these notices of tliem a« 

««™rftheBquaw-sachem,and from the connection of 
« inemherof their &mily with the household of Po.^ 

Iiwa. » third KK. of the New Moon who married the 







davghter of the graud sacbem. He wis called George 
Bimiiiey-Manli, from the district in which he liTed, part of 
irhkh is now in Chelsea and part in Sangos. Hereare the 
Indian names of these three brothers: MontowampatOi 
Wonohaqnaham, and Winnepnrket And now ibr oar 
aecowit of the wedding. It took place at the house of the 
pride's fiuher, and was attended with great ceremony and 
feasting. At the close of the festiyities, the old chief, 
according to custom, sent a select escort to accompany the 
new-married couple to the dwelling of the husband. When 
they arrired there, scTeral days of feasting followed, for the 
entertainmrat of his friends and of the escort, who, when 
this was ended, returned to the Merrimack. 

Some time afterwards, the wife desired to yisither fiuher's 
house and her firiends there, and Winnepurket sent with her 
'* a choice company." When she had finished her yisit, and 
proposed to return to her husband, her father, instead of 
proTiding her with suitable attendance as before, sent to the 
young sachem to come and take her. He was very angry 
at this, and returned his fiither-in-law this answer : '* When 
she departed from me, I caused my men to escort her to 
your dwelling, as became a'diief. She, now, having an 
intentioQ to return to me, I did expect the same." This 
message irritated Passaconaway in his turn, and the quarrel 
between them continued and increased so much, that the 
squaw neter came back to Rumney-Marsh at all. 

We find but dm CTents happening at Natick in these 
years between 1654 and 1660. There was another fi»t in 
16S8, partly in preparation fixr the gathering of a church| 
partly on account of mudi rain, and other trials. Here 
Wabaa exhorted, and Nishohkon, fimnerly described as a 
hssUU matti who began thas, *'I am a poor weak maai and 


know but little, and therefore I shall say but little." In 
the aflemoon, John Speene, the former chief owner of the 
Natick knds, Anthony, the sawyer, Piambouhon, who lived 
at Hassanamesit, and Wattasacompanum (Captain Tom), 
made speeches. All took their subjects from Genesis or 
St Matthew's gospel; for, except a few of the Psalms in 
metre, no more of the Bible had been yet printed in their 
language. They all used pretty much the same words at 
beginning, then recited some passage from tho parts of 
Scripture they were fiuniliar with, which they explained and 
illustrated. Piambouhou began with, << I will speak but a 
little, because I am a poor creature," and Captain Tom's 
first sentence was, " A very little I am able to say, and 
besides, it is late." 

In none of the speeches of these Indians which I have 
read, have I found any traces of that eloquence so conspicu- 
ous in some of the later chiefii in our western States. There 
is, now and then, a remark touching from its humility, but 
none of the stem vigor that lives in the words of Red-Jacket 
and Bkck-Hawk. 

In accounting for this, it must not be forgotten that these 
of the Massachusetts were the broken and dbbeartoned 
remnants of a people; and that we have on record, no 
address, of any great chief, or artful orator, but only the 
penitent complainings of some humble men. Besides, the 
subjects which they discuss are strange to their minds, and 
everything about the new religion, foreign and unfamiliar. 
We do not know what stirring w<npds Captain Tom might 
have used, had his purpose been to excite to war, and to the 
old traditionary revenge. 

This six-years' delay, after two so strict examinations as 
our Catechumens had gone throuj^, was it necessaryl Was 







h ezonsftblel Mr. Eliot, who knew them beet, wae oon- 
Tinced of their Bincerity, and satisfied with their fitness Amt 
being finrmed into a church. So were some others. But, 
OB the whole, the elders and magistrates seem to hare 
thought more time needed toproye the steadfiutness of their 
fiuth; thej were "so newlj oome oat of that great dq)th 
of darkness, and wild coorse of life." There was, also, al 
this period, a great deal of business to attend to, besides the 
alUrs of the Indians. 

But aboTo all other reasons for delay was this : They 
were scattered aboat in small oommonities, not fery near 
each other, and it was necessary to train up a set of mlers 
and teachers, to reside with, and instmot, their oonntryroen. 

With these considerations Mr. Eliot comforted himself 
under the unjust suspicions and doubts of many people, both 
here and in Enghind. There were those who denied the 
fiict that any Indians had been conyerted, and found great 
fiuilt with our dear, good Mr. Eliot But he was not to be 
disturbed by this. The society in England knew, and the 
Indians knew, and he knew, and Ood Almighty knew, that 
he was a true man. 

If our forefikthers had been' content with a more hasty and 
imperfect preparation of their oonferts, they might, years 
before, have had not one church only, but many, among the 
Indians. They interposed so many delays, and were so 
cautious in admitting the reality of the change wrought in 
these poor heathen, that when their scruples were once sat* 
isfied, there is scarcely room for us to doubt Mr. Wilson 
of Boston, remarked, << If we would foroe them to baptism, 
or if wo would hire them to it, by giring them ooata and 
ahirls, wo could ha?e gathered hundreds, yea, thousands, it 
wmj be^ 1^ diis time, into the name of ohurdies; but wo 


t- .■-■■■a 





hare not learned, as yet, that art of coining Christians, or 
putting Christ's name and image upon copper metal." 

Contrast with all the labor and care of Mr. Eliot, the 
following statement, which is given in a book written by an 
English clergyman lately, and called ** Mornings among the 
Jesuits at Rome." 

A friend of the author, who had been in America, had 
there witnessed the conversion of a whole tribe of Indians. 
They all marched down to a river, and the Popish priest 
sprinkled water on every one in the usual form, and then 
hung a little cross by a string round the neck of each, and 
telling them they were now Christians, he left them. The 
Indians went away precisely as they came, never having 
heard any preaching, never having received any instruction, 
' having exhibited no sign of Christianity, having made no 
profession of fiuth. They went as they had come, — as 
naked, as savage, as wild, and as ignorant, with this only 
diflSsrence, that each had a little cross suspended round his 

But the story goes on to say, that the priests at Rome, 
to whom the English clergyman mentioned this as a wicked 
proceeding, defended the conduct of the missionary. They 
maintained that these very Indians, heathen and savage as 
they had been, and utterly uninstructed. were real converts 
fipom that moment, and that the proofe of their conversion 
were undoubted and convincing. 

From the day of the baptism, the misskmary was absent 
firom these Indians tor two years, and when ho returned to 
the statkm, he of course required them, as was his custom, 
to come to the oonfesskmal to confiMs their sins, that they 
might receive absolution. But ha was agreeably surprised, 
and indeed ovegoyed, to find thai not pne of them had any 


CT- ■ 

c-:- \ 


(' ■■• 




•ills to con&at. Baring these two years the Lidisns bad 
li?ed saeh holj and Christian Utss, that there was not <»ie 
among them who had committed a single sin ! 

" Bn%" said the English minister, from whose book I 
take this account, " this might baye arisen from their not. 
knowing their sins ; they had no sins to confess, because they 
knew not that those customs, rices, immoralities, cruelties, 
and idolatries, which they were constantly committing, were 
really sins. The best, and wisest^ and holiest Christians 
that ever lired, were conscious of sin, and if those Indians 
were really converted, they must have been conscious of 
sin ; and to suppose them otherwise must imply that they 
were wholly unconverted." 

*'No," was the priest's reply; ''it was a divine 

With this credulity and imposture of the Jesuits, the 
stem deliberation of our Puritan forefiithers compares most 
fiivorably ; and we are glad, too, to read such ezpressionsas 
these bom Natick. 

*' I know not anything," says one, " nor can do anything 
that 18 a good work; even my heart is dark daily in what 
I should do, and my soul dieth because of my sins; and, 
tberefiwe, I give my soul to Christ, because my soul is dead 
in sin, and daily doth commit sin ; in my heart I sin, and 
•U the members of my body are sinful." 

Surely this man had been well taught by Mr. Eliot, and, 
as I would reverently believe, had been taught also by the 
Holy Spirit 

At length the day came. The first church of Christ 
•BOBg the natives of North America is to be formed. Ton 
win be disappointed to find how little I can tell you of the 
inoidsBtaorthalday. I only know that Mr. Eliot baptised 




the Catechumens, and then administered the Lord's Supper. 
How many of the English took a part in the proceedings, or 
of how many members the Natick church consisted, cannot 
now be ascertained. 

We must imagine the scene for ourselves. The long 
summer day, the circling hills, the flowing river, the throng 
of half-savage men and women, the group, also heathen by 
birth, now, through God's mercy, about to receive the 
sacred seal of Christianity. That baptism in the wilder- 
ness ! I seem to see the grave satis&ction of .the Indians, 
and the beaming joy of the missionary, as over one and 
another the woids were spoken, '' I baptise thee." 

These powawing, sealpmg, treacherous wolves are now 
lambs of the Most High, and henceforward shall the prayers 
and praises of a Christian church go up from that '' Place 
of Hills," the deep tranquillity of which was once broken 
only by the screams of birds of prey, wr the hungry cry of 
some fierce, prowling beast^ or by the war-whoop of the 
fiercer savage. 

Now one of David's Ftolms is sung in the Mohegan diar 
lect (an << enchanted wolf "« indeed!): 

^ iMt of all Mr. Eliot administered the Holy Commuiioii. 

«« Wttlwifd OM0, flron Edca gnidiag, 
Wm tli« light ofBttUtlMB dMd I 
Lflke the pmared Um abUing 

0'€r th« waaderiBf Hibrew'i hmL 
Wttlwifd aim. theworU aUafiaf, 
Hath tlM riMa DiHktf 

• Bmtkmnti WMft twii If tiM dgiilStattoa af IIm wwi If thagaa | 
waif MllBg wiiar Mptraalaral Jaiwaai 




And, the ^klng itml umring. 
O'er Um wcirid'B wide oceui i 

*■ Westward still, the midDight breikiiiK 

Weitwmrd itill Ht light b« posicd t 
fiestbeii th7 pooesaion making, 

Utmori Unds th/ dwelling. Lord I 
Tbera be heard the herald Toiixa 

TOl the Lord bli glorr ehowi, 
Aad the lonelj plaoe r^ioioM 

With the Uoom ofBlunm'i mm, 

"Where the wildemMa ii Ijlug 

And the trees ofagn nod, 

Wtstward, til the deaert erjing 

Hake a highway Ibr onr Ood t 
TirtwaH, tlU the ohnreh be knedlnc 

In the foreet ablca lo din, 
lad the wfldwood'i arebea peaUng 
With the pMpU>i bolj hTBB I •• 

7 wc liad lived four hundred yean 
itffj, it is not rorj liiiely that we 
flltould crer have bad access to the 
wholo of the Bible. Porta of it we 
should bare heard ; we might eren 
have seen a few fragments of it Bomowbcvc. But we should 
scarcely have bod, aa now, a copy of our own, to read wfaen- 
erer we chose. A rery rare and costly volume wu it 
before the invention of printing, and to be found only in 
great libraries, in rich ohurchee, or in the posacaeion of the 
wealthy. For it waa no slight task to write out with pen 
and ink the whole of to large a work ; and early and late 






lofled the pious monk, wbo thus tnnseribed it for the bene- 
lit of his oonreDt 

And how mfinitely greater the him of translating from 
the original, of ascertaining the exact meaning of the 
Hebrew or the Greek expression, and rendering it perfeotlj 
into one's own hmgoage ! When a learned man has accom- 
pliahcd this, he is thought to have shown great diligence 
and perseverance. 

I dare saj you know what I am coming to. Mr. Eliot 
did more, much more than this. That the Indians might 
have the book of God in their own tongue, he had first to 
learn the langoage into which he would transhte. Some 
of jou, perhaps, know what it is to studj a foreign hm- 
guage, with all the helps that good books and skilful teach- 
ers can aiford. It requires much time and patient thought 
One must still remember, and compare, and combine. But 
Mr. Eliot had no grammars, no dictionaries, from which he 
could seek assistance. There were neither books nor writ- 
ings in the knguage he would learn. His teachers were 
not men of philosophical education, but rude barbarians. 
He must collect and classify fiw himself, and, by dint of his 
own thought, draw out the general principles of the 

If at this present time any well-educated man in Boston 
should be sent, we wUl say, to Copenhagen, in entire igncH ^ 
naoe of the Danish knguage, and directed to learn it there, 
to translate into it, as soon as he was able, the whole of both 
Testaments, and then to come back to his native country, 
we^onld not very soon expect his return. !Butifhewere 
ftrbidden to use any books, if he were told to make his own 
and vocabttkries, learning the meaning of the 
dy firom the frequent and various repetition of 



them by the Danes, I think few of us would live to see him 
in Boston again. 

Yet this supposed individual would still have advantages 
which Mr. Eliot had not In Denmark, though forbidden 
to have recourse to books, he would meet with cultivated 
people, of whom to inquire, when any doubt troubled him. 
He could discuss questions with men accustomed to think 
on the topics for which he was trying to find words. 

Mr. Eliot's interpreters were ignorant savages. The 
very thoughts which he was striving to clothe with words, 
were utterly unknown to their minds, till he should commu- 
nicate them. It was not difficult for him to acquire the names 
of objecto they saw around them, or to learn the words 
expressive of ideas with which they were familiar, or which 
they could readily receive ; but how make the Indian aware 
of what he meant by forgivmess or humiliiy ? 

Another thing we must not fail to notice. Mr. Eliot was 
not a man of leisure, able to devote his whole time to this 
translation. He was the active minister of a parish ; he 
took his share in the public business of his time, and, as we 
have seen, performed no small amount of travelling and 
preaching among the natives. He carried his note-book, 
when he walked or rode abroad ; when he heard a new word, 
he wrote it down, in the woods, or by the light of a biasing 
pine-knot in some rude wigwam. 

Was it perhaps an easy languagel Here is one word 

.of it 


non-ash. It means our qtiesiian. Mr. Cotton Mather 
used to say of those long Indian words, he thought they 
must have been growing ever since the confusion at Babel. 
They seem to have begun with one jimple idea, and then to 




k 1 ^ 








bave added otber incidental or auxiliary ones on each side ; 
as a small snow-ball, that can at first be held in a boy's 
hand, by rolling abmg in the moist, new-fidlen snow, 
oomes, in time, to be a mass too heary for any one to 

Now pat all these hindrances and diflbmlties together, 
and say what motire ooold be snflhnent to induce Mr. Eliot, 
year after year, in the sweet summer evenings, through the 
glowing autumn days, and in cold winter mornings and 
nights, to perscTere in his task. lie has small hope withal 
of its being finished. As early as 1649, he expressed a 
desire to translate some parts of the Scripture. " I look at 
this," he says, "as a sacred and holy work, to be regarded 
with much fear, care and reverence." Two years after, we 
have firand him saying, " I have no hope to see the Bible 
translated, mudi less printed, in my days." Yet he went 
on. He loved the souls of those poor Indians, and was 
willing to undergo any toil, that he might give them the 
Bevdation of Heaven to man. At last it was translated,— 
all transhtted, — the Gospels and the Acts ; the Epistles of 
St Paul and of the other Apostles ; the Histories of the 
Old Testament; Poems^and Prophecies; the whole Bible 
was translated into the Indian tongue. Well might he say, 
** Prayer and pains, through fiuth in Christ Jesus, will do 

Mr. Eliot had not funds of his own, to print the Bible 
when it was ready ; he speaks of " the want of money " for 
this purpose. At length, however, the Society for Pnqpa-^ 
gating the Goqwl provided the means, and, in 1661, the 
New Testament was printed at Cambridge, Massachusetts ; 
two hundred copies of the New Testament, strongly bound 
'k IsatheTi fiv the vnmediate use of the Indians*. 

* ■ : 


It would have been worth while to accompany Mr. Eliot 
on that visit to Natick, when ho took with him some of these 
copies of the Word of Life, and delivered them into the hands 
of his eager converts. 

Two years kter the whole Bible was finished, together 
with the Catechism, and the Psalms in metre. ^'This 
Bible," says Dr. Cotton Mather, "was printed here at 
our Cambridge, and it is the only Bible that ever was 
printed, in all America, from the very foundation of the 

When Mr. Eliot had the pleasure of hearing his Indians 
read the Divine Oracles " in their own tongue, wherein 
they were bom," I think he was well repaid for all his 
self-denying toil and trouble. By this time, many of tlie 
grown people, and a great number of children, had been 
taught to read. What a pleasant thing to visit the school 
at Natick, with Mr. Eliot ! He calls on one of the most 
forward of the pupils to stand up and read a chapter from 
one of the Gospels. In the poetical words of Hawthorne, 
" Then would the Indian boy cast his eyes over the myste- 
rious page, and read it so skilfully, that it sounded like wild 
music. It seemed as if the forest leaves were singing in the 
ears of his auditors, and as if the roar of distant streams 
were poured through the young Indian's voice." Mr. Eliot 
heard more than this ; — more than the holy import of the 
words pronounced. He saw the future missionary to his 
tribe in that bronied boy ; and thought how the precious 
truths now become accessible to them, should sound down 
fipom one generation to another, long after these children, 
sod he, their teacher, should have gone to their rest A 
happy man was Mr. Eliot Not in vain did he come to 
Boston, twenty years ago, in the ship Lyon. Not m vain 


,-■- i 


wu all that previous study of the Hcbroir and the Greek, 
Kt the English university of Cambridge. Not in vain all 
bis labor in the colony. Ah ! it is something to feci, with 
thankful humility, that one hns not livvd in vain. 

"Up-Biblum God, — The Book of God," may he have 
•oftly murmured to himself, as it lay on hig lap ; while he 
looked through the open door on the fiiir landscape of Na- 
tick. He thought how its sounds should never cease in 
this " Ploc« of Hills," nor in the " Place of smnll Stones," 
in the " Place of great Trees," nor at the " Spring gushing 
from red Earth." And other spots in the wilderness he 
thought of, and wider and wider tracts to be won from bar- 
bariam and darkness, to the religion of Josna Christ. 

AimI is that dream fulfilled ? In all these pleasant places, 
vn indeed churches where Christ is preached every Sab- 
bath day ; but tlie print of the moccasin is not on the paths 
which lead to their thresholds. The tribes which go up to 
the bouse of the Lord, are not of the savage rnco. In Eng- 
lish accents are sung the praises of God ; for the last echo 
<tf the Alohcgan dialect has long since died away among the 
hills. Everywhere are the dwellings of civiliicd and Chris- 
tian men ; but we 6nd not among them the homes of " the 
original people."* 

This is the beginning of the 19tb Psalm, in Mr. Eliot's 
venioQ ; Ncen woh-we-koi-wan-con-nun wih-tom-mon-nan- 
voh neh wuk-cban-Dang-tho-wan-oon. Fob- tom-now- wans. 
TAa heavens declare the glory of Ood. 

Hr. Eliot says his translation was generally understood 
w fitr aa CoonecticuL It was in the Mobegan, or, oa othen 

•SaA «H the prood titta 4Mam«d bj Um Ddiwi 
At Origloal Pt^*. 

; LMMi Littp*; 


cIl it, fc lWha»ts Wgu.g,, of ,bi,|, n, Dcl.™„ 
»fcj»me »nj„,„,«i u, U„ te„ ,t, ^igin.! .took- 
tbough, „ „ h.™ bcfor. nc.lio„ed, Ih. mno Al™»to 

aae through the country. 

or them™ eoplojod io th« printing of it. Hi,™. 

Other Wi„ jouth .1,0 reeeired in„ruclion ; „d bj, the 

same corporation which furnished 

most of the funds for 


bnJ^, for th. p„,p„„ „f ^,i . ,.(^^, 

«™ young „en of intelligent, Uu,. u,e, „ight beeon» 

»e». Th , buildmg, whieb prob.bly ,l„„d . little euet of 

enough for .Wot twenty etodont,, .Ithough it nerer „t«.lS 
»»l.,ned h.lf ,h,t number. I. ,„ Xrw.ri, eon S 
mo . prtnting^Siee, .nd when it ,„ Jnully fCdo™ 
»».»od.t,o.. for„.tive...d..,.,e,o ™erL in'L;;: 

Thvl"" T"' "' «f ■P"»<'i°S tbe Ooepel will 

0«d h«h bowed M .,t»,d, ou, piek up ,o»e knowledge by 



my broken expressions, yet I see that it is not bo taking 
and effectual to strangers, as their oitq e^tprcssions be, who 
naturally spcalc unto them in their own tonguo." 

With this view he bestowed great pains on those of the 
eoorerta at Natick, who manifested any ability in speaking ; 
and encouraged them to exorcise their gifta in exposition 
and prayer. On one occasion he sent two of these mis< 
•ionariefl to a great sachem among the Narraganscts. To 
introduco their errand, Mr. Eltot had provided them with a 
present for him ; and we read that " the proud sachem took 
the present, but did little less than dospiso the offer " of 
Christianity. Others were sent, with better success, among 
the Indians dispersed through the Kipmuck country. Mas- 
■asoit, the chief of the Wampanoags, though always pcaee- 
ablc towards the English government, never manifested any 
inclination to embrace their religion. Mr. Eliot's remark 
of him was, "The old man is tty} wise to look after it" 
[religious instruction]. 

Meantime, English settlements were mode and making 
in different places on all sides of the praying towns. In 
the Nipmuck country, which stretched over Worcester 
coonty, and further west to the Connecticut river, Lancas- 
ter and BrookGeld, and other places, were begun. To 
Lancaster the whites had boen invited by the friendly 
■■chem, Shohm, who had had many dealings with them at 
Watertown, and was desirous they should dwell in his ter- 
. ritory, which ho represented as peculiarly fitted for a phu. 
•tion. This was the same Sholan, who, with his warriors, 
bftd eaoorted Mr. Eliot in one of his perilous journeys. For 
dur^ yean the utmost harmony p^evaih^d between his tribe 
•ad their white neighbors. 

What WM it to found » new settlement in those days 7 



Mr. Emerson, of Concord, makes a pretty pi'-ture for ua ; 
" The landscape before the first settlers was fair, if it was 
strange and rude. The little flower [a species of aBter] 
which, at this season of September, stars our woods and 
road-sides with its profuse blooms, might attract even eyes 
OS stom as theirs, with its humble beauty. The useful 
pine lifted its cones into the frosty air. The mnr-'o, which 
is already making the forest gay with its orange leaves, 
reddened over those houseless men." For they were house- 
less, as we have seen, till they had felled trees, and squared 
logs, and made for themselves another shelter than the 
boaghs of trees. 

Nor were their troubles ended when they had a roof over 
their heads. It took time for com to grow. The wolves 
caught their swine, when turned into the woods to feed on 
the nuts and acorns ; tlicir cattle stmyed and were lost in 
: the swamps. By hard work, by hard living, by strong 
patience, and by much prayer, wn* liiis our country mode 
ready for us by our forefathers. Let us honor the bravo, 
BtTU, pious men, and tho long-enduring, constant women, 
wlio won for us this our hontiigo. Out of tho rocky wilder- 
ness, they carved pleasant fiii-mB and turned dismal swamps 
into New England EUons, nnd wrought rugged hill-sides 
into smiting fields. Tho oaks nnd pines they converted 
:into hoiiscs where God was praised, and children woro bora, 
and brought up in His fear. 

■' I have often, when going through a wood, tried to imag- 
ine what were the feelings of one of these early settlers, 
as ho rode alone in the forest. Those tall, close-growing 
pines, did he feel sometimes as if they shut him in, away 
from heaven as well as from earth 1 Did he see in them 
future cities, and fleets, and oharohes, and iweot oountry 



homes, or was etdi mighty tnmk only an enemy to be cni 
down, and wasted with axeandfirel 

Beantifiil trees ! Tour fiite has been like ihat of your 
play-fellow, the Indian. The hunter and the thicket that 
sheltered him have alike disappeared from pkin and Talley. 
Cheat hafoe was made m the stately forest to supply the 
• ••right loyal fires" of winter. "All Europe," says one 
writer, "is not able to afford to make so great fires as New 
Engfamd. A poor servant here, that is to possess but fifty 
teres of hmd, may aflford to give more wood for timber and 
fire, as good as the world yields, than many noblemen in 
England can afibrd to do. Here is good living for those 

that love good fires." 

The Indians often put the question why the English had 
come hither? Was it because they wanted firing 1 It was 
their own custom, when they had burnt up the wood conven- 
ient to one phm, to remove to another ; for their fires by 
night were to them instead of bed-clothes. They laid on 
abundance of wood before going to sleep, and whoever waked 
in the night repaired the fire. 

The firo-phkces of the English were often more than eight 
leet wide, and as the dwellings were cold, and clothing 
sometimes scarce, the wood was used unsparingly, and the 
last thing before retiring to rest, was to fill the chimney 
with "a kndly fire," in order to keep the house comforta- 
Ue dirou|^ the night 

But though they had good fires, they had not always 
^ass to their wmdows. The light struggled in through 
irindows of oiled paper, says one, adding, "but they read 
the woid of God by it;" so there was light in their dwell- 
kigL Always, in their settlements, prompt provision was 
br a pbMse of lelipous worship. Side by side with 




their own houses, went up the meeting-house, a square, 
decent work of boards, of a style unfortunately yet to be 
found in our towns. It is surely much more diflkult to 
. grow tasteful than to grow rich, or the best of two hundred 
years ago, would not, a little more paint and varnish being 
added, be our best to-day. 

••5«w EngUnd StbtNOli diqr* 
8o liMTeii-liko« ttUl tad pus { 
Tben hannA imlki the waj 
Up to the temple'f door. 
The time we tdl 
When there to eoiiie« 
By beat of dram 
Or eoonding shelL*' 

They had a town-bell at Concord, suspended in a tree 
and its tones are said to have been terrible to the Indians 
At another place, a stranger in the country, whose mind 
was in some perplexity, was once walking in a narrow In- 
dian path, that led him at last, we are told, " where none 
but senseless trees and echoing rocks made answer to his 
heart-easing moan." Leaving this hill-path, he by and by 
turned his &ce towards the sun, and so went on southwai^ 
till he came to a large plain, and presently heard the beat- 
ing of a drum. Following the sound, he came upon a broad 
beaten way, and inquired of one whom he met, what this 
signal meant The answer was, that as there was no bell 
to call men to meeting, a drum was used for that purpose. 
The town was Cambridge, and Mr. Shepherd's lecture that 
afternoon comforted and cheered the mi^ of the stranger. 

In Haverhill the drum and the horn were both used ; we 
find m the records of the town, that it was ''voted, that 
Abram Tyler blow his horn, half an hour before meeting, 





I —y * 

* • v 





Ml Lord's i^y uid lectare days, and receive from esoh &ffl- 
il; one pound of pork, annualljr, for his service." 

As Ciovemor Eodicott informed us, stane time ago, tlie 
Ibdians of N otick hod made two drams. They were proba- 
bly oaed, as in otber places, to summon the people to their 
zeligkm* meetings. 

" Hark 1 't 1* Ott Indlui drrua, — 
The iroodi uid rocks ftrotmd 
Echo Uw miiiks Kumd, — 
Tbaj nmM ! th«y oanw ! the; ooma I" 

Bnt it is not vith war-paint and savage whoops, with 
vhisting arrow and crashing axe, to afiright, to slay sod 
to BOalp. Thejr come " clothed, and in their right mind," 
to -pnj and sing psalms of peace, and to read there Mr. 
Eliot's new and precioas gift, Up-Biblum God. 

" Erewhile, when 7011 gi^ apirei their brightotM rear, 
Tnt* w&Ttd, and Ui« browD hnnUr'a ihtmU mn load 
Aald the fbnst ; ftnd the bounding desr 
' IM at the gluxsing plnme, uid the gaunt wolf jelted Bear. 

** And where hl< willing wiitm ;on bright blue b^ 

Sendi up, lo kisa his deearaUd brim, ; 

Asd endlea in hii sod embnce, the gs/ 
Tmiig group of gnaej ijiluids bom of him. 
And, crowding Digh, or in the distuiee dim, 
Ufle the white throng ot uils, that bear or bring 
The eaouneroe of the world ; — with tawnj limb. 
And belt uid beadi in ninlight glist«ning, 
UtHngBBTged lu« akiff like wild biid on Um wing. 

"Then, ell thie JoffU ptndiM uoBnd, 

And *1I the bnad ud baondkw nulnlutd, 1*7 
Onded t^ U>e Inlefminsble wood, that ftvwned 
' O** BMMutd and T«le, when a 

Iliraiigh the gray giuiti ot the gylTan wild 1 

Tet man; a Bhellered ftktde, with blouoius g^7. 
Beneath the ihawei; akj and imuhine mild, 
Wlthio (he ehagsr ftnoe of that dark forest miled." 

" There ilood the Indian hamlet, there the lake 

Spread iti bine aheet, that Baahed with man; an oar. 
When the btewn otter plunged bim ^m the brake, 
And the deer drank ; aa the light gale Sew o'er, 
n« twinkUng maiia-Md niatkd on the atmrt." 


\ a. GOOKIN colla it Nope; 
other writers call it Capawack. 
It is the island known to ua u 
Martha's Vineyard. This island 
is twenty milos long, and about 
ODO-fiMrth fut M wide, aod, at its nearest point, is «ightT 
mOw from BostOD. Mr. Thomas Majhow, of Watertown 
<*«Mied » gnnt or it in 1641, and won aftenranls lemored 
tmth«r, with a unmber at Engliah fiuniliea, and was ap- 
pootod gonrmnr of the little oolonjr. His son, Mr. Thtnnaa 
iUjhn, JBnior, was a miuister. He hid learned the 
bdiaa langnaga, and began to prvaoli to the natJTea in bta 

tmghborhood, aboat the same tiuM that Mr. Elkit first Tisited 
the Indiaiis at Konaotam. Am Hi. Eliot's first ooDTert, 
Waban, was, thnragh lifb, a sober, upright man, so Hia- 
ooonm, the first Christian Lidian of Nope, always preeerred 
an unspotted reputation. Hiaooomes was not a sachem ; on 
the oontrarj, his descent was mean ; and we are further 
informed that his speech wsa slow, and his oonntenauce not 
■nrj promising. He lired near the English at Great Har- 
bor, now Edgartown, and, aa some of them look notice of 
him, he went to meeting and oheerred what was d(Kie there. 
Ur. Mayhew, seeing the interest he took in serrioes of 
which he understood very little, inrited him to his house 
on Sunday erenings, and instructed him. 

We shall not be able to fellow the progress of the Nope 
Indians, so minutely as we hare done that of the community 
at Nonantnm and Natiok ; but a few particulars about 
them may be interesting. Mr. Mayhew, in one of his let- 
lets, says, "The work among the Indians had its rise in 
1648, when the Lord stirred up the heart of HiaootMnes, a 
man of a sober spirit liring near to the English plantation." 
When Pakeponesso, "a surly sagamore" reproached Hia- 
ooiHnes, for his fellowship widi the English, in their ways 
dvil and religious, and fbr being obedient to tbem, Hia- 
ooonMB replied that he was gladly obedient to the English, 
and that his bong so did no harm to the Indians. Upon 
which the sagamore struck him Tiolently on the &ee, and 
was only prevented by some Englishmen, who happened to 
be ptsent, tnm repeating the blow. The poor Indian thua 
wronged said, " I had tote hand for injnriea, and the other 
fer Oodj and while I did reoure wrong witb the one, the 
other Ud the greater hold on Ood." 

The saobema of Nope an r^iresented as baling been 


mwmii ■ I 


■Idoliilo in their government, but .ubject in Bome respect. 
to Ibe gre«t sognnrate of tbo Wampnoag., to whom thev 
., irere obliged to do homage and moke annual prerenU. 
Then) were three thousand Indiana on this island and the 
•mailer island, Chappeqniddic, when Go.ornor Majhew 
entered into possession. Its harbors, lagunra, and ponds 
•Bbidod an almost inexhaustible supply of food; 
were easily soeured, and the were verj ingenious in 
cntmppmg eels and other fish. Innumerable birds haunted 
the oak woods of the interior, and myriads of sea-fowl visited 
the coasts. The lands looked bamn enough to those who 
think no country fruitful unless the fields arc green ■ but 
tins SMidysoil was in reality favorable to llio growth of 
squashes, beans, maise ; and these vegetables were all the 
Indians wished to cultivate. A recent traveller on the 
Yineyardsays it is the paradise of sportsmen; there are 
over fiirty species of wild fowl, some of which arc still taken 
in the Indian fashion. The sportsmen crouch in holes du. 
m the sand, and shoot the birds as they puss on the wing 
mie same writer speaks of spots covered with shells, mostly 
of the scallop and quahaug (or round clam), to the depth 
of more than throe feet 

These island Indian, were less civili»xi than the Narre- 
g«i«l>. They knew how to roast, but not to boil, and 
could net miio wampum. They were greatly surprised at 
the eftct of fire-arms, which killed more birds in one day 
than their arrew. in . whole month. And when the En.- 
lish ploughed the Und, they were «, delight.1 that thoj 
JMld follow the tr«»i of the plongh for days together, 
itor bonso were small, mcMl, and full of smoke For 
■™s, the, carried a bo, and forty or fifty aro^ i„ . 
quiver of otter-ski,; but their .rrew. were feeble and 

pointless, as may be seen from tlie stone heads Bti]I picked 
op. Tliejr began to waste away as soon as the English 
appeared, dying either of ycUow fever or of consumption, 
They had a peculiar treatment for the former of these mala- 
dies, which they called laying it. Hero is their own 
description of it, as practised before the arrival of the Eng- 
lish. "After the disorder had raged and swept off ft num- 
ber, those who were well met to lay it. The ricli, that is 
such as had a canoe, skins, a.ies, &c., brought them. They 
took their seats in a circle, and all the poor snt around 
withoat. The richest then proposed to begin to lay the 
sickness, and having in his hand something in shape resem- 
bling his canoe, skin, or whatever his riches were, ho throw 
it np into the air, and whoever of tlio poor without could 
take it, the property it was intended to resemble became 
forever transferred to him." After the rich had thus given 
away oil their movable property to the poor, another cere- 
mony commenced. 

An entire new wigwam was prepared, built of materials 
which had never before been used. One of their finest 
young men was shut into this wigwam, wliich was then set 
on fire in every part, while the whole assembly fell to sing- 
ing and dancing. Presently the youth would leap out of 
the flames, and full down apparently lifeless on the ground. 
While the women were busy recovering biro from his trance, 
the men kept up the dance without intermission. When be 
was restored, which was aomotimcs in six, sometimes not 
before forty^eight hours, he would tell that ho had been 
carried in a large thing high up in the (ur, where be came 
to at groat eompuiy of white people, with whom be had 
interceded hud to Ibvn the distemper lud ; kikI geoenllj, 



ftfter much persuasion, would obtain a promise or answer 
of peace, which never Gu\ed to be fulfilled. 

In the year 1643, a strange illness befell the Indians. 
We are told " they ran up and down till they could run no 
bnger, made their facea black as a coal, snatched up weap- 
ons, spoke great words, kc, but did no hurt" All the 
arts and remedies of the powaws foiled. In one case, when 
the patient was given over by them, bis family, in great 
distress, sent for Mr. Maybew, who, having firet reasoned 
with him, and convinced him of the weakness and wicked- 
ness of the powaws, told him that health must come only 
from the Lord and Giver of life, and prayed for him. The 
poor Indian was comforted hy Mr. Mayhew's visit, gave him 
repeated thanks, and speedily began to recover. 

About tie same time a distrust of the powaws was mani- 
fested by other Indians, but, many calamities falling on 
them, their superstition led them to believe it was in pun- 
ishment for forsaking their old ways, and all went back ; all 
hut Hiocoomes, who remained constant in his desire for 
instruction. In consequence, ho met with many trials. 
Going one day into a house where there were several of his 
countrymen, thoy began to scoff at and ridicule him, calling 
out, " Here comes the Englishman." The noise they made 
ftwoke Hiacoomes' old enemy, the surly Sagamore Pake- 
poneeso, who also joined in the reproaches. Among other 
things he said, " I wonder that you, a young man with a 
wife and two children, should love the English and their 
ways, and forsoke the powaws ; " implying, I suppose, that 
Hiacoomes was exposing those dear to him to the evil infla< 
eiwM of the powaws whom he neglected. Pakeponesso wai 
neben of the little island of Gbappeqaiddio, which is sepa- 
lated from Martha'i Vineyard by a narrow arm of the tea, 



about a quarter of a mile across, called Oldtown Harbor. 
Here occurred an incident, which had nearly cost the life 
of this opposing chief, and which made a great impression 
on all the Indians who heard of it. One night, as it was 
beginning to rain, Pakoponcaso and another, attempted to 
put out a mat over the chimney of their wigwam, — if we may 
BO call the hole left for the escape of the smoke, — when there 
came a sudden flash of lightning, which knocked them both 
down, killed the young man, and stunned the chief, who 
would have perished in the fire if be had not boen saved 
by his friends. It was not long after, that he became » 
Christian, and Mr. Mayhew aptly remarked, "He was 
indeed a brand plucked out of the fire." 

Myoxeo was another great man among the Indians of 
Nope. One morning, at break of day, Hiacoomes reocived 
a message from him, entreating him to come, without delay, 
and instruct some Indians, who earnestly desired to be 
taught all he knew and did in the ways of God. Hiacoomes 
gladly went, and found a large company of Indians, among 
Uicm the chief sachem of the bland. They asked Hiacoomes 
to show his heart to them. 

Myojteo inquired how many gods the English wor- 

"One," said Hiacoomes. 

The other upon this reckoned up thirty-seven he had. 
"Shall I throw away these thirty-seven for one?" 

"I," replied Hiacoomes, "have thrown away all these, 
and more, and am preserved, as you see this day." 

Then Hiacoomee preached to them as well as he ooold, 
and they seemed sensible of their sins. 

Mr. Mayhew, in one of his letters, speaks of the niuner- 
ou gods in whom then lodiaoe believed: meD-goda, womeo- 

h - 



gods, and children-gods, — gods belonging to their com, and 
to ererj color of it; while yet thej held an obscure notion 
of a doitj greater than all. But of him they said, that they 
knew not what he was, and therefore had no way to worship 

It was in 1646 that Iliacoomcs had received this invita- 
tion to teach the other Indians, or, as they expressed it, 
" to show his heart to them." For throe years bo instructed 
them in private, then preached, continuing always humble 
in his piety, and not at all lifted up by his success. 

The wife of Hiaooomes was also a believer. They both 
showed the stead&stness of their bith, through a very sharp 
trial, not long after they embraced the gospel. 

The woman was extremely ill, so that her death was 
looked for by herself and her husband ; and, in this danger, 
many of their unconverted friends urgently solicited them 
to send for a powaw, from whom she might obtain relief. 
But both husband and wife utterly refused to listen to this 
temptation, Hiacoomes declaring his willingness to submit 
to God*s disposal, and lose his wife, though he loved her 
dearly, rather than take assistance from the devil and his 
instruments, whom he had renounced ; and the woman, who 
was the suiTercr, was endowed with such Christian fortitude, 
through the grace of Ood, that sho also utterly rejected this 
assistance, and would rather lose her life than seek such 
help. In this exigence they earnestly cried to God in 
ptayer, to show mercy to them for Jesus Christ's sake ; 
«itreating also the prayers of Mr. ICayhew, their teacher, 
and other English Christians who lived near. Mr. May- 
hew, mnoh afleeted with their distresSi called together some 
godly perMns, who kept a day of &sting and prayer, to 
kufixt die help of the Almigh^ finr those poor Christian 



Indians. And the Lord was graciously pleased to hear and 
answer their prayers, and the woman was soon restored to 

This story we have given nearly in the words of Mr. 
Oookin, to whom it was related by Mr. Mayhew, in pres- 
ence of Iliacoomes, not long after the circumstances took 
place. When we consider the superstitious influences which 
had surrounded the whole lives of these poor, ignorant 
creatures, we must greatly admire the noble fearlessness of 
their faith. The sachem who was present on the occasion 
of Hiacoomes' early morning visit to Myoxco, was named 
Towanquatick. His son about this time fell ill of a fever, 
and Mr. Mayhew visited him, bled him with his penknife, 
and prescribed for him, with happy effect. ^ This sachem 
said, " A long time ago, we had wise men, who in a grave 
manner taught the people knowledge ; but they are dead, 
and their wisdom is buried with them ; and now men live 
a giddy life in ignorance, till they are white-headed; 
and, though ripe in years, they go without wisdom to their 

He also expressed his wonder, that the English sliould be 
now thirty years in the country, and the Indians fools still ; 
but he hoped the time of knowledge was now come, and, 
therefore, he and others desired Mr. Mayhew to give them 
an Indian meeting, and to moke known to them the word 
of God in their own tongue. 

** You shall be to us," he said, " as one that stands by a 
running river, filling many vessels. Even so you may fill 
us with everlasting knowledge." 

In compliance with their desire, Mr. Mayhew undertook 
to give them a meeting onoe a month. As soon as the first 
exercise was ended, they urged that the meeting* should be 





more frequent, and would gladlj have had them oftener 
than he could well attend. Once a fortnight became the 
aetded course. 

At another time, Towanquatick gaye, as his reason fixr 
wishing Mr. Mayhew to preach, that he was desirous that 
the Indians should grow more in goodness, that their poa- 
terity might inherit blessings ; and finr himself he was desir- 
ous to put the word of God to his heart ; to repent, and 
throw awaj his sins, and to be better ; and after he was 
dead, to inherit a life in heaven. 

The surlj sagamore of whom we hare spoken, having a 
son ill of a fever, sent for Mr. Mayhew to visit him. The 
minister instructed and prayed for the sick man, according 
to his earnest desire ; and was rewarded by hearing him 
say, **I thank thee, God ! I am heavy to sleep." 

Afterwards, however, he sought again to the powaws, 
contrary to the advice of other Indians, who forsook the 
wigwam, saying, *' We leave the house for the devil and 
them that will tarry." This man, by the English called 
Saul, died soon after. 

This diflkulty about the pofraws was always the greatest 
dbatacle to the christianising of the Indians. There were 
three things, we are told, which in the beginning were 
inquired into. First, as to earthly riches, — what they 
should get 1 Second, what ^>probation from other sachems 
and governors 1 Third, how they shouldcome off from the 
powaws 1 Sometimes they objected that from the English 
ways they should get nothing but talking and praying. 

The sachem, Towanquatick. met with a narrow escape, 
in die spring of the year 1647. Some Indians were one 
migbi fishing at a weir; a place where they had built stone 
wallsy from each side of die river down die atream, till diey 



nearly met at an angle of forty-five degrees. At this point 
was placed a large cage, called an eel-pot, which is formed 
of twigs fastened to hoops by strips of young elm, or other 
tough bark. The wall conducted the fish, which were poss- 
ing down the river, into this cage, where they were taken 
in great abundance. Near this fishing station, Towanqua- 
tick was lying asleep on a mat before the fire, when an 
Indian came down, and let fly at him a brood-headed arrow. 
Instead of hitting his heart, it struck his eyebrow, which 
caused the arrow to glance aside, so that it wounded him in 
^ the nose. There was a great stir, but in the darkness of 
the night the assailant made his escape. Tho Indians said 
the cause of his being shot at was his walking in the Eng- 
lish ways. Next morning, Mr. Mayhew went to see him, 
and found him praising God for his great deliverance. 

Besides the weirs we have described, the Indians of Nope 
showed their ingenuity in various other methods of catching 
the fish which formed a large part of their subsistence. The 
sandy shores of their island abound in small inlets, filled by 
die sea at high tide, and left almost dry at tho ebb. To 
prevent the fish from being carried out by the retiring 
waters, the Indians constructed an apparatus of reeds, six or 
eight feet long, matted together by thongs of grass, and 
stretched across the mouth of the inlet at high tide. The 
water passed through without diflbmlty, but the fish were 
left behind, and were taken by the Indian spears. 

When the Indian preferred fowling to fishing, ho lighted 
a pine torch, and walked about the beach, carrying the light 
in one hand, and a short stick in the other. The silly sea- 
birds, bewildered by the sudden glare, flew within reach, 
and were knocked down. But more amusing is the account 
of their gull-houses. A gull-house was built widi crotohed 



sticks fixed in the snnd of the beach, and ooycred vith poles. 
The sides of the house vere of stakes, with a sort of thatch 
of sea-weed. On the roof were placed Lirge pieces of whale's 
flesh. All being ready, the man entered the house, where 
his presence was not suspected b; the gulls, and while they 
were contending for, and eating the bait, he drew them in, 
one by one, between the poles, often taking forty or fifty in 
a single rooming. 

We have said that the Indians met regularly, once a fort- 
night, to receive instruction from Mr. Mayhew. In 1648, 
they appointed a meeting of thoir own without his iostiga- * 
tion, although he was usually present. The younger men 
came, and brought the ancient men of their kindred to speak 
for them. One very old mnn began with a rebtion of their 
former cnstoma, acknowledging that they were inferior to 
" the ways of God." Twelve of the young men rose, and 
going to the eldest son of Towaniiuatick, took him by the 
hand, one by one, and told him they loved him, and would 
go with him in God's way. The old men encouraged them 
netcr to forget the promises they had now made. Then 
they cat together the proTiaions they had brought, after 
which they sang part of a psalm, Mr. Mayhew prayed with 
them, and they separated. 

At another of tlieir meetings, they fell into discourse 
kbcint the powaws, and many stories were told of their 
power to kill men. "Who is there," they said, "that 
doth not fear the powaws 1" and Uiocoomce, whose con- 
duct had shown snch disregard of their vengeance, was 
warned that be would certainly be killed. His trust in 
God greatly snrpriaod his companions, and they ver« on- 
oonnged to believe also, ia order that they too might be 
raised above fear of the powaws. 

One Lord's day, after the meeting, a powaw came in very 
angry, and began to abuse the " meeting Indians,'' calling 
them liars. Then, addressing some of those present, he told 
them they wei^ deceived, for the powaws could kill all the 
meeting Indians, if they set about it. 

One bold young man declared that he neither feared the 
powaws, nor asked any favor from them. 

Hiacoomcs spoke next. " Bring all the powaws in the 
island," said he, "and put me in the midst. Then let 
them do their utmost, with all their witchcrafts; I shall be 
without fear, remembering Jehovah ;'' adding, with an ex- 
pressive gesture, " I put all powaws under my heel." 

The opposing powaw was silenced, and could only say, 
that none but Uiacoomes was able to do it. 

Mr. Mayhew one day inquired of Uiacoomes, the rcasoti 
why ho had given to one of his daughters a name signify- 
ing Return. 

"Sir," replied the Indian, "you know that a little 
while ago, I and my wile and children were travelling on 
apace in the broad way to hell and all misery, and going 
from God ; but now, since you preached to us, I and my 
wife and children are, through God's grace, rclunting 
back the conti-ary way, with our fiiccs set toward God, 
heaven and happiness. Secondly, when my wife was ill 
and in dang<;r, it seemed that God was very angry wiih us, 
bnt he was entreated and heard our prayers, and is rclnrned 
to us with mercies. And for these two reasons I call this 
child. Return."* 

* Bo Mr. Roger Wiltinmi, wtwn anllbring what bo thouftht oppraaioDi 
■MiDctl ft cUnghtcf KrnberH. And lh« Gnt UiitB childnn biptind In th« 
BaMoB oKorch irare numd Joj, Reootopnue and Pitj. 







One of Hiaooomes' children died, and the parents are said 
to haye borne the affliction in a moat Christian manner, giv- 
ing an excellent example in this as in other things. They 
practised none of their old customs of mourning ; such as 
disfiguring their fiices, and howUng for the dead, as was 
usual among the heathen ; but poticntljr resigned their 
child to Him that gave it At the funeral, which was 
attended bj some English, and by many Indians, Mr. May- 
hew made an address concerning the resurrection. As they 
were going away, one of tho Indians told him that he was 
much refreshed in being freed from old customs, and also 
in hearing of the resurrection of good men and their chil- 
dren, to be with God. 

Thirty-nine Indian men, besides women and children, 
were, in 1650, members of this meeting, of which Hia- 
coomes was the teacher. In Nope, the Christian Indiuis 
aeem to have been called Meeting Indians, as at Natick they 
had the name of Praying Indians. 

Some of them having a discourse with Ousamequin. a 
great sachem of the mainland, about the ways of God, the 
latter inquired what earthly good things came along with 
those ways ; what had they got by their change of religion'} 
"We servo not God for clothing," replied one of them, 
" nor for any outward thing." We must notice that Ousa- 
mequin, the great sachem of tho mainland, was no less a 
person than our old acquaintance, Massasoit, the head of 
the Wampanong nation. It was not unusual among the 
Indians to change their names, on tho occurrence of great 
and important events in their own history, or in that of 
their tribe. Thus the celebrated Bod Jacket was originally 
ealled ^* Always-Ready ;^^ but when he waa elevated to the 
digputy of ehie(^ this name was taken from him, and in its 



pUice was bestowed the title of Keeper-awake^ in allusion 
to the power of his eloquence. 

Mr. Wilson, of Boston, in a letter, written 27th October, 
1651, speaks of one of the Nope converts thus : " A prime 
Indian at Martha's Vineyard, Hummanequem, a grave and 
solemn man, was here a few weeks since, and spent the Ix)rd's 
day with Mr. Eliot's Indians, near Dorchester Mill. Here 
be preached and prayed for about two hours. The next 
Sunday, in Boston, he was in our assembly, the boat being 
ready to carry him home by the next opportunity ; — and 
truly my reverence to him was such, as, there being no room 
[I suppose in Mr. Wilson's pew], I prayed our brethren to 
receive that good Indian into one of their pews, which they 
did forenoon and afternoon." 

He seems to have dined with Mr. Wilson, who adds : 
"And at meal, I perceived by him that he had under- 
standing of what he heard." 

Among the powaws was one of great note, called Tequa- 
nomin. He stated, after his conversion, that it had never 
been hb Uiought to do hurt to any, but always . he had en- 
deavored the good and preservation of tho Indians. 

This Tequanomin one day meeting another Indian, called 
Mononequem, in the woods, began to converse with him 
about the powaws. Tequanomin said he did not think it a 
good way. God was angry with him for it ; for, said be, 
" my wife has been long time sick, and the moro I powaw 
for her, the worse she is." This man's househoM became 
his enemies upon his conversion. His wife, his children 
and friends, all turned against him, and he suflR^red from 
them many trials and temptations. On one occasion hia 
brother was sfeky and earnestly begged him to powaw for 

I, '' 




V : 
•I ■ 


■ .1 


I K 



» «.^T» 




hiiBf promising him to keep it secret. But Teqaanomin 
stcodbstlj refused, saying it would be sin against Ood. 

It is related that a young man, sent by one of the great 
powaws to the meeting, as a spy, was so much impressed by 
what he learned, as openly to declare that he hated the 
powaws and their witohcrafls, and desired to go with the 
meeting Indians in God's ways. 

Mononequem, mentioned above, was one of twenty-two 
young men, who at the same time professed their resolution 
of renouncing their sins, and leading a diScrent life. He 
was the son of one of the principal Indinns at Gay Ilcad. 

Edgartown, where the Mayhews lived, is at the eastern 
end of tho Vineyard, and Gay Head is at the other. This 
is a promontory formed of lofty clifls, of various-colored 
clays, blue, yellow, red and white ; its name well expresses 
the brilliant appearance of these numerous pinnacles, as seen 
in the summer sunshine, especially after a rain. Near the 
shore is a huge hollow, beai'ing some resemblance to tho 
crater of an extinct volcano, which, according to the Indian 
legend, was tho abode of the Giant Maushaup. His habits 
were rather remarkable even for a giant lie used to tear 
«p the forest trees by the roots, to feed his fire, and then 
catch a whale and roost it for his break&st At length, 
when die Indians became numerous, either from dislike of 
•oeieiyi or because he was tired of living on the islaad| he 
awayi nobody knew whither. 


""Tiwe to Hkt Muon, o'«r mr na4mU fliort 
Tho Mfliag ofpnj high io sen to loor, 
With hrotd, aiuaofiiig wiag ; sad ofawHag riow 
Iforhs oioh Ummo otniggler in tho deq^ holow | 

* 0ir«e|)o dowa Dko lightaing, plongei with a vosr, 
lad b«n his otnggUag vftoiha to tho dioffoi 

I ' 


Tho kmg-hooaod fishonnaii boholdi with Joj 
Tho wdl-known ilgnAl of bin rough emploj, 
And M ho boon his nets and onn along 
Thos hails tho woloomo season with a song : 

•« Tho Osprejr soils aboro tho sound ; 

Tlio gocso aro gono ; tlio gulb aro Qying | 
Tho herring shools swim thiok aroand, 

Tlio nets aro launelicd, the boats aro pljfai|^ 
Yo ho ! my hearts ! let 's seek tho deep. 

Raise high tho song, and cheerijr wish her, 
Still, as the bending net wo sweep, 

Ood blcfls tho fish-hawk and the fisher. 

*' She brings us fish, she brings as spring. 

Good times, fkir weather, warmth and pleatjr, 
Fine store of shod, trout, herrings, ling. 

Sheep's heads and drum, and old wiros* daiaQr* 
Yo ho ! my hearts ! let *s seek tho deep, 

Plj OTorj oar, and ohoerlj wish hor. 
Still, as tho bending not wo sweep, 

Ood bless tho fish-hawk and tho fisher. 

«* Sho rears hor young on yonder tree, 

Sho learcs hor fitithftil mate to oiiad 'tm | 
Like us, for fish she sails to sea, 

And plungUig shows us where to find 'tm. 
Yo ho I my hearts ! lot 'o seek tho deep, 

Baioo high tho song, and oheorly wish her, 
Still, as tho bondhig not wo sweep, 

Ood Ueis tho flih-hawk and tho fisher. *' 


" I. 
I ,• 



I' D 




I :! 




: 'i 

■ I 




nriT nr tni tdibtabd. 


% 4. J»r 1651, Mr. M.,ta« """v;^! 

'.H. fiftj w." °'™" """ .TJX?" 

» of thres miles from Mr. Majrhew's Lome st Edgnr- 
town, wu Unght by Umooomea'; tho other, nliicb wu ciglit 
mika vnj, wu under the care of Unmmutequem, Mr. 
WiUon'a visilor in tbe lut cliapter. 

One of the meeting Indians vu onoe rery Bick, and, think- 
ing Uut he wu about to die, be bohI that be so loved God, 
as to be willing to go and leave his wife and children, and 
everything else, and that be was desirous to live (mly that ' 
he might Icam more of tho word of God, and be tuefnl in 
tcacliing other Indians His way, 

Mr. Mayhew lodged one night at the bouse of » sachem 
of great distinction among the islatid chiefs, who was tho 
friend of a powerful sachem on the main land. After sit- 
ting awhile in tlie house, tbe minister was earnestly desired 
to relate to them " aotne of tbe ancient stories of God." Ue 
■pent I great part of tbo night in sock disooorsc, as was 
indeed his custom wbonovcr ho lodged in tbcir wigwams. 
Ilis liost was much affected by what lie lioanl. Soon after, 
he desired to join tbo Christian Indians, to the great dis- 
pleasure of the sachems on tbe main, wlio wcra strongly 
opposed to tbe new doctrines. When infonniition wai 
Iffought to this convert that they intondcd to pat liim to 
death, he made answer, that if they should stand with a 
sharp weapon against bis breast, and toll him that they 
would kill bim presently if bo did not leave tbo white mon's 
w.iys, but wouM oontinne to love bim if be did, bo would 
rather lose his life than keep it on such terms. 

Aootbor, having almost lost his eye by a wound from his 
oncmios, "the mark of whioh," says Mr. Mayhew, "b« 
will cony to bis grave," stated Uiat he fireely forgave tbe 
man for tbe sake of Ood, and would not bare him paniihed. 
This was doubtless Towanquatick at the weir. 



nmiT nr thb TinnARD. 


Mjozeo, after his oonreraon, met with a friend from the 
maiiii and thoy spent part of two nights and the intervening 
day in diseonrso on religions subjects. Myoxeo told how a 
belierer lived above the world, and kept worldly things 
always at his feet That riches were diminished or increased 
was no cause of joy or sorrow to a Christian ; he did not 
stoop to regird them, bat stood upright, with his heart 
towards heaven, his whole desire being after God, and all 
Us joy with Him. 

Good Mr. Mayhew preached twelve or fourteen years. 
He sailed for EngUind in the year 1657, taking with him a 
son of Myozeo, and was never heard of afterwards. Mr. 
Mayhew^s death was a great loss to the community. His 
Indian converts were so much affected by it, that for a long 
time they could hardly hear his name mentioned without 
tears. After this most afficting event, his father, Governor 
Mayhew, now seventy years old, began to preach to 
the Indians. Although bearing the weight of years, and 
the dignity of governor besides, he sometimes travelled on 
foot nearly twenty miles, through the woods, to preach. 
The souls of men were precious in the eyes of Christians in 
those days. The Indians, in their turn, admired and k)ved 
the governor as a superior being, who always did what was 
right, and had no other object than to make them happy. 

Of course, schools were established on the island. In 
1651| we hear of thirty children at school, who aro spoken 
of as apt to team; and, before the year 1662, two hundred 
and ei^ty-two heathen had embraced Christianity, among 
them ei^^t powaws. The revolt of Hiacoomes seems to 
have excited the attention of the whole island; and his 
iniuenoe was evidently very considerable over Uie minds 
ef hie countiyiiMn. We have ahready mentk i ned thai be 

I '..^j 

was instrumental in the conversion of two sachems. It was 
Mr. Mayhew's custom to confer with him every Saturday, 
upon the subjects to be preached from on the next day, by 
which niacoomes profited so much as to render his instruc- 
tions very useful to his Indian congregation. A very grave 
man he was, seldom or never known to smile. 

What further we have to say of Uiacoomcs and tlio other 
Vineyard Indians, may as well be told in this place, al- 
though it will carry us in point of time beyond the rest of 
our story. Hiacoomes survived his Mr. Mayhew many 
years. In 1670, he was ordained by Mr. Eliot and otheniy 
and continued to preach until 1690, twenty years longer. 
He lived, from his conversion, in 1648, forty-seven years, a 

His wife was a good woman, and his sons and daughten 
were also of the same mind with their pan^nts. One of his 
sons was a teacher on the ishind. Mr. Gookin says of the 
eldest, a very hopeful young man calknl Joel by the Eng- 
lish, " He was so ripe in learning, that he would within a 
few months Iiave taken his first degrae of Bachel<»' of Arts 
in the college at Cambridge; but a little before the Com- 
niencemeut, in 1665, he made a voyage to tlie Vineyard to 
visit his fiither and friends. On his return to Boston the 
vessel was wrecked on the island of Nantucket It was 
thought that the passengers and crow cam^ to shore alive, 
and were murdered by some wicked Indians for the sake of 
thecaigo. Some Nantucket Indians were afterwards executed 
for this alleged crime. " Thus," says Mr. Gookin, " thus 
perished our hopeful young prophet Joel. Hewasagood 
scholar, and a pious man, as I judge. I knew him well, for 
he lived and was taught in the same town (Cambridge) 
whereldwelL I observed him, for several yean after he 







1 1 






was groirn to joora of discretion, to be not only a diligent 
student, but an attentive hearer of God'a word, diligently 
writing the sermons, and frequenting lectures ; gmye and 
sober in his conversation." 

Another student from tlie Vineyard, called Caleb, look 
hia bachelor's degree, but died of consumption soon after- 
words, at Charlestown, where ho had been pluccd under the 
care of a physician. He wanted not, wo are told, for tho 
best means the country conlil afford, both of food and phys- 
ic, but he could not be saved. The scheme of giving a 
liberal education to the most promising of the native youths 
proved a complete fuilure. Some of the scholars died before 
they had finished their preparatory studies. Some, after 
making good proficiency, grew disheartened, and returned to 
their nntive liaunts. A few became school -masters and 
mechsnics among their countrymen. Those who persevered 
fell victims to consumption, the cfTect of the change of diet, 
lodging, apparel, and pursuits. This was the fate of tho 
young Laniel, of the junior class, who died in Doston in 
President Lcrerett's time. A single name, "Caleb Chee- 
abahteaumuck, Indus," stands alone on the catalogue of 
graduates of Harvard College, tho only representative of the 
native tribes. 

Bat to return to the Vineyard, which Caleb never did. 
Tackanash was ordained in 1670, as well as Iliocoomes, and 
was considered a man of greater ability than his colieagne. 
"A very studious and exemplary man," he is styled. 
Hiocoomes survived him, and made the following speech at 
his fnneral : 

" Here is my deceased brother. Paul said. This body 
■a sown in corruption, but it shall be raised in strength. 
Now it is a pitiful, meaa body, but then it shall bo a glori- 


ous body. Yea, however this body shall be consumed, and 
bo as if it had never been, as it were, turned to nothing, yet 
the power of Go*I shall bring it forth again, and raise it up 
an excellent and glorious body. 

" Yea, this body is now a precious body for example's sake. 
Though this body is but one, yet there are many people 
round about come togetlier to seo it sown. But if a man 
should go about to put one grain of wheat into tho giound, 
thoi-e would not be so many people present at tho doing of 
it as there are at the interring of this one body. 

" And, ns you see there are many people present at th« 
burial of this body, so there shall be many people at the 
resurrection also. But it shall not bo then as you see it is 
now. Now every one is diversely apparelled, — some after 
one manner and some after another, — but all after a pitiful 
mean soit; but the righteous at the resurrection shall have 
all one uniform glory. 

"Thus much I say as to that; but I shall now speak a 
kind woi-d to the relatives of the person deceased, especially 
to his wife and child. If you be desirous fosco your father, 
sook your father, for your father went before you in every 
good work ; therefore seek your fatlicr in every good work, 
and you shall find your father again, for God's mercies an 
exceeding great." 

When bis speech was finished they proceeded to fill up 
the grave; and Hiacoomes, sLinding by, exclaimed, "This 
is the last work men can do for him,— tho next work God 
himself will do." 

Tho third minister was Mr. Japheth. At his settlement 
over the church, Hiacoomes gave tlie charge. He is de- 
scribed as a person of " a genteel anl obliging conversaUon," 
everywhere courteously received and entertained, and 





inTitod to Mt at the tables of the best gentlemen on the 
island. He spoke English pretty well, and strangers liked 
to oonverse with him. One Monday rooming ihe master 
of a Teasel asked him in jest, " Did yoa pray for me 

Japheth answered, " Sir, I prayed for all God's people, 
and if yoo be one of diem, I consequently prayed for you." 

J^)heth's wife, Sarah, was a " wise woman,'' who builded 
her Imise ; for the fair and large wigwam where she lived 
was covered with mats made by her of plaited straw, or 
flags and rushes ; and those which served as hangings for 
the walls were all neatly embroidered by her skilful indus- 
try, with various colored strips prepared from the inner 
bark of the walnut tree. Her husband was always well 
ek)thed, and his linen so clean and white, that he was fit to 
go into the best company. 

We read, too, of Japheth's mother, a little woman, low 
in stature and of most lowly mind, exactly answering to 
the signification of her name, — Wuttununohkomkooh, ''a 
humble or lowly woman." She was courteous and obliging, 
in an uncommon degree, to' all with whom she had any 
intercourse, and delighted much in doing good to the poor. 
Htf not the gospiel done something for these savages? 
There are firuits of grace in this Vineyard, I think. 

Another woman, when she heard of any sick person who 
needed something, would make a basket, sell it to the Eng- 
lish for the articles most needed by the sick, and then visit 
the object of her bounty with " those good things." Another 
taught her children to read, because they were fitur firom 
adiooL One more woman must be mentioned, — Old Sarah, 
wlw lived at Edgartown. Her Indian name was Assan- 
MNiabpM which means ^'a woman that ia a giver of vict- 

uals," — the original signification of our word fac/y, loaf- 
giver. This lady of Nope was noted for her hospitality 
and kindness. She was neat and active, brought up a large 
fomily in comfort, visited the sick and poor, and whenever 
she heard of any fiitherless or motherless child, she used to 
take it to her own house, and keep it till it was provided for 
in some other way. Sometimes her household complained 
that she gave away to others what was intended for the use 
of her own fiimily ; but she used to answer that there was 
no danger in giving food to such as needed it, for God wouM 
send her more when it was necessary. 

What became of Towanquatick, the first Christian sachem 
in the Vineyard ? He lived without reproach till about 
1670, a Christian magistrate over those whom he had ruled 
as a heathen sachem. The time of Myoxeo's death is uncer- 
tain, but he lived to a great age. 

Then there was William Lay, or Panunnut, a better 
singer than any other Indian, who used *' to set the tunes " 
in the meeting. He became the chief Indian magistrate in 
the Vineyard, and was rather over-strict in his government 
Once Mr. Mayhew told him he feared he was too severe, 
but Panunnut replied, when the English were whipped, the. 
shame of it was one-half the punishment ; it was not so with 
the Indians, therefore they ought to have more in smari^ 
since they had less in shame. 

David Paul lived kttor. As there was no school near 
him, he for several months hired a school-master to teach 
his children to read, and to instruct them in the catechism. 
There is something pleasant in the idea of a private tutor to 
the fomily of a Nope Indian. 

For most of these fiM^ we are indebted to Mr. Experience 
Mayhew, the grandson of hhn who was drewned, aod great- 

I • 






grindaon of Gorernor Majhew. This genUetntn was finnil- 
iar with the Indian language from infiincy, and nwdo a new 
TeraioQ of the Psalma, and of St. John's gospe], in tho begin- 
ning of the eighteenth oentnry. 

The island of Nantucket, which was incladed in the grant 
to the MayhewSi contained, when the first English settled 
there, in 1659, a popalation of nearly three thoosAnd Indi- 
ans. These received instruction from Mr. Majhew, and his 
son, and from Hiacoomes : and were a sober and industrious 
people, diligent in planting com, spinning and knitting 
stocking^ Uany of them came up erery summer to the 
towns about Boston, where they found employment in the 
labors of the hanrest. They were always friendly to the 

The giant Maushaup had something to do with Nantucket 
as well as with the Vineyard. The legend runs, that, in 
finrmer times, a great many moons ago, a bird of extraordi- 
nary size used oflen to risit the south shore of Cape Cod, 
and carry from thence in its talons a great number of small 
children. Enraged at this havoc among the children, Mau- 
shaup waded into the sea in pursuit of the bird, till he had 
crossed the sound and reached Nantucket There he found 
the bones of the children, in a heap, under a largo tree. 
Then, wishing to smoke a{)ipe, and finding no tobacco on 
the island, he filled his pipe with poke, a weed which the 
Indians sometimes used as a substitute for tobacco. Ever 
since these memorable events, tog^ have been frequent at 
Nantucket and on the cape. In allusion to this tradition, 
when the aborigines observed a fiig rising, they would say, 
'' There comes oU Maushaup's smoifce." There is another 
ladkm tradition, that Maushaup fimned the island of Nan- 



tucket, by emptying the ashes from his pipe after he had 
done smoking. 

Upon the mainland, situated on the south shore of Cape 
Cod, and in sight of the Vineyard across the Sound, is 
Marshpee. This was a site well adapted for an Indian 
town, being indented by two inlets or bays, and shooting 
into several necks or points, of land. It was well waterecl 
by three fresh rivers, and contained several fi'esh ponds. 
There were numerous fish in the bays ; in the rivers, also, 
were trout and herring. The woods were well supplied 
with deer and other game, and about the ponds were otter 
and mink, whose furs were valuable. 

Mr. Richard Bourne, of Sandwich, '^a noble-hearted 
man, having some skill in the Indian language," obtained 
for the Indians a grant of about sixteen square miles, at 
this place, in 1660. Like Mr. Eliot, he thought it vain to 
attempt to Christianize any people without a territory where 
they might remain in peace. Mr. Bourne was ordained by 
Mr. Eliot and other ministers, in 1670, pastor of an Indian 
congregation formed of his own converts, the Marshpee, or, 
as they were then styled, the South-Sea Indians. In one 
of his own letters, ho says, ** When the church was gathered 
there were present our honored governor that now is, with 
divers of the magistrates. Also, some of the teaching 
elders, with the messengers of their respective* churohes, 
besides, I suppose, five hundred people, some of tho chief 
of them declaring their satis&ctipn and approbation of the 

When Mr. Bourne died, fifteen years later, he was suc- 
oeeded by an Indian minister, named Simon Popmonet, who 
preached to them about forty years. 

Mr. John Cotton, pastor of the English at Plymouth| 

«r . 






1 1. 





\l : 






used to teaoh the Indians in his vicinity, and at Middle- 
borough, and along Buzzard's Bay as far as Now Bedford. 
lie says, ** When the courts are here (at Plymouth), there 
are usually great multitudes of Indians from all parts of 
the colony. At those seasons I preach to them, which is a 
means to encourage some, that live very remote, to aSect 
praying." lie then mentions several snchcms, and among 
them one as remote as Little Compton in RIkmIo Island. 

In Connecticut less was accomplished. Mr. James Fitch, 
of Norwich, preached often among the Mohegans living 
about the Pequot river (now the Thames), and at first with 
some i^^parent success. But their sachem, Uncas, a wicked 
and drunken old man, stirred up a great opposition to his 
labors, and forbade the Indians ever to attend the meetings. 
As many as thirty of them remained steadfast in their desire 
to learn ihe true religion ; and continued to meet together 
to repeat and Ulk of what Mr. Fitch had taught them, 
although they suffered much persecution from their rulers, 
and from the Indians around them. The good minister 
encouraged them to the utmost of his ability, and oven 
settled some of them upon his own lands ; but, in fiice of 
such obstacles, little progress could be made. 

Among the Pequots, we hear of but one Christian Indi- 
an, Wequash, the Swan. The beautiful bird from which 
be received his name, was common on our New England 
lakes, in the days of the Indian sovereignty ; but on the 
departure of the red man, she spread her wings and followed 

Wequash was by birth a sachem of the Pequots, but, for 
iOiM unexplained reason, he led thai proud and warlike 
Mtkai, and lived among their ancient foes, the Narragan- 
aeti. He is deseribed as *' a famous eaptain, a proper man 




of person, and of very grave and sober spirit." A Massa- 
chusetts clergyman says of him, in 1C43, ''He loved Christ, 
he preached Christ up and down, and then suffered martyr- 
dom for Christ ; and when he died, gave his soul to Christ, 
and his only child to the English, rejoicing in this hope, 
that the child should know more of Christ than its poor 
fiither ever did." 

lie is said to have been poisoned by his countrymen, 
''who thus repaid him for his labors," and it might be 
added, for his treachery, since a traitor to his nation he 
certainly was. 

Of all the natives, the Narraganscts were least inclined 
to receive the Cliristian religion. Their sachems, indeed, 
would not suffer the gospel to be preached to them. The 
old Prince Canonicus, "most shy of the English to his hist 
breath," his nephew, the ill-used Miantonomo, and the 
equally unfortunate and noble Canonchet, with whom per- 
ished the empire of the Narraganscts, were all alike opposed 
to the faith of the intruders upon their soil ; and their sub- 
jects, with few exceptions, obstinately adhered to the customs 
and traditions of their ancestors. 

When the great revelation of Christianity, the resurrec- 
tion of the dead, was preached to them, they would cry out, 
" I shall never believe this." But the existence of the soul 
aflcr death, they were readjr to admit, as agreeing with their 
own creed. When good men died, they said their souls went 
to the south-west, where tliey met with their friends, and 
enjoyed all manner of pleasures without weariness or danger 
of loss. When the wicked died, they also went to the south- 
west, but were commanded to walk away, and so wander 
about in restless discontent and darkness forever. 
Mr. Boger Wilhams, one night overheard a eonversatioii 




between two of the Indiana to whom he had given aomo in- 
atniotiona coneerning a future atate. Weary with labor and 
tisTel, he had kin down to reat, when one of theae addreaaed 
the other : 

'' Our fiithera hare told ua that our aoula go to the'aonth- 

" But," anawercd hia companion, the Sachem liiantono- 
mo, *'but how do you know that your aoula go to the 
aonth-weat 1 Did jou ever aee » aoul go thither ? " 

*^ And when did the Engliah aee a aoul go to hearen or to 
hell 1 " waa the rejoinder of the firat 

'* He hath booka and writings/' replied the aachem, *<and 
one which God himself made concerning men*8 aoula, and, 
therefore, may well know more than we that have none, but 
take all upon trust from our forefathers." 

More advanced than their neighbor tribea in civilization, 
the Narragansets may, in comparison, be styled a commer- 
cial and manufiicturing nation. They not only began a 
trade with the English for goods for their own consumption, 
but bought to sell again to other distant tribes, receiving 
beaver and other furs in exchange, for which they found a 
ready market with the whites. They were the most skilled 
of all ihe Indiana in their varioua manufiictttrea of atone 
azea, tomahawka, mortars, pestles, pipes, arrow-heada and 
wanpum. Their integrity and good morala were above 
reproach, and they were hospitable and grateful in a moat 
vnnsnal degree. Mr. Williama says he had often received 
from them a return fi>r kindnesa perfinrmed yean befixra, 
•ad whkdi be had himadf fbvgotlMi. 



mo nn lavovaob or imsiOA, na 



SwMi rest is not eoaaiied to toft beds, Ibr not oo^ God gifw hfa beloftd 
•iMpoolisrdloclgiiig; bat alio Nstare and Caatone gif«t ioaad ilssp to 
tlNM AaMrieana ob the Earth, ob a Booid or Mat Tat Imw to Su«pa 
bond to Qod ir bettar lodging, fte. 



M0B8 PAanovLAa. 


God gifoa thorn sleep on Ground, oa fliiaw, 
oo Sedgio Mats or Doord ; 

When English softest Beds of Downe 
somellBMs BO sleep aflbord. 

**I have knowne them leaTo their Hbiist and llal» 
to lodge a Friend or stranger. 
When Jewes and ChristiaBs oft have ssnl 
Christ Jesos to the Ifangw. 

** 'Fm daj thej iBToeate their Gods, 
though litMj, False and new ; 
Oh, how shoBid that God worahipt be, 




■ HE MAQUAS, or Moliawlo, 
Trere not of the great Aigonkm- 
Letiitpe family, with which our 
history has hitherto been con- 
cerned, but belonged to another 
leM Dumiuwia diviaioa of the 
North Americui race, mentioDed nnder Berenl diSerent 
imw ; M the Iroqimis, by the French ; the Five (aome- 
InMi the Six) NftUons, by the English writers ; lad in 
tbor own toogBe eilled by n wotd which meiiiB the United 
Tht MglMwki wen the lending tribe of thia oonfedemi^, 



Xai IUQ0A8. 


whidi, seated aonth of the St Lnwrenoe tnd Lttko Ontario, 
extended fitMn the Hodoon rirer to lake Erie, end carried 
its oonqnests to the MiauBsippi on the west, snbducd the 
tribes npon the vpper ridges of the AUcghjiny mountains, 
and waired against the Cberokees, and most of the Indians 
at the wrath. In all these directions they had wcU-asoer- 
tained wmr-patbs ; bnt their grent trail, firom one to two leet 
wide, and deeply worn in the groond, three, six, or even 
twelve inches, according to the finnness of the soil, lay be* 
tween the Undaon and lake Erie, not merely panning the 
best and most direct route, but including every site moat 
anikble tor a settlement. Wherever was the best shelter, 
the most ready communication with other places, tho easiest 
aocesa to the streams and lakes, there were the homes of this 
people. It is n very noticeable &ct that ve, their socceas- 
on, hare followed precisely the same line, »d have placed 
on their trail our large towns and prosperous villages. 

Their Unguage difiered very greatly from that of the 
New England Indians, and was much more banh and gut- 
tural. " The Six Nations," says Mr. Gookin, " live only 
•bont a hundred miles from ihe Nipmucks, yet thoy cannot 
better understand me another than English and Chinese." 

Such was the reputation of the Maqnai as warriors, that 
if but one showed himself for a moment on the bills of Coa- 
neotient or Massachusetts, the villages below were in an up- 
roar of confusion and fear. The appearance of four or five 
of them in the woods, wotiM frighten Nipmucks, Massachu- 
setts, or Fawtnekets, from their habitations and corn-fields, 
and send them to their fbrts. In some instances, these war- 
riors were even known to poisue the native bidians into tho 
bonsee of the English aetders, and kill them there. 
The Maqoae never netaally held in sutgectioD the mhu- 

W P RSilS^!5^ 


trf easi of the Connecticat rifer; but tbeir incunuons, now 
and theii| in a siimiDer, bnmght great dSstraes as well as ter- 
ror upon the inyaded. If the English had not giy^n relief 
to the Indians abont them, thej woold haye been in danger 
of starration. For not only were they driven finom their 
planting fields, and from their fishing and hunting grounds, 
but they did not dare even to go into the woods to seek 
roots and nuts, to satisfy their hunger. One good effect 
of all this, waS| that the New England Indians were driven 
by neoessity to labor with the English, in hoeing, reaping, 
picking hops, cutting wood, making hay, building stone- 
fisnoes, — any employment by which they might obtain fi>od 
and clothes. 

The winter was, among the Indians, a season of idleness 
and iqpathy. Then they removed from their summer fields, 
to thick and woody bottoms, where they sheltered themselves 
aa best they might, from the rigors of winter. Now and 
^tlien, they would exert themselves so fiur as to sit round 
holes in die ice, and catch a few fish, but that was all. In 
the begmning of March, they began to hunt finr moose on 
the Green Mountains, where these animals made their win- 
ter quarters. The pursuit of beaver was the occupation of 
the next months when the rivers, ponds, and creeks, were 
open. Then came the great spring movement to the fitvor- 
ile fishing encampments ; and now planting time demanded 
otleiition to their fields of moise. Midsummer was again a 
season of idleness, and of various gpunes ; and the year ended 
with the gpneot fidl hunt, their true harvest timoi the real 
** Tudian sununer.'' 

B«lp pefhapa, after several seasons of quiet, with the first 
soft wmds and earliest buds of qHrbg, a scout of the Ma- 
q«aa hasi for an instant, been seen in the neighborhood, — 



scarcely seen, yet surely there,— and all sense of security is 
over. No trace of him is found; there was only that one 
transient gleam of his eyes, which haunts the beholder as he 
speeds homeward to warn his tribe. 

The Mohawk manner of fighting was well calculated to 
inspire terror, and to ensure success. It was their custom, 
we are told, when an expedition was decided on, to issue 
forth in a party of not more than fifty in number. When 
arrived near the place of their destination, some safe spot 
was selected as a sort of general rendesvous, and then they 
separated into small companies of four or five. One party 
remained at the camp ; the others, stealing ever nearer and 
nearer to their intended prey, lay in wait for any straggler. 
Surprise and stratagem were their reliance. 

When a foe was killed, all his arms and trappings became 
the spoil of his conqueror ; but the most coveted trophy was 
the scalp. Taking oiT the hair and skin of the head, << as 
hu^ as a satin or leather cap," they carefully dried the 
inside with hot ashes, and rejoiced over this token of vic- 
tory, with the same pride with which civilised nations dis- 
play the guns and standards, captured from their enemies. 

It is at first sight not a little remarkable that, though so 
vindictive and cruel towards other Indians, the Moquos did 
not at all molest the English, who lived, many of them, in 
the woods, fiur from neighbors, and were frequently travel- 
ling in the wilderness from town to town, with no other 
weapon than a riding-rod, quite alone it may be, or but two 
or three together. The Maquas might have killed such 
travellers, without detection, or even suspicion, if they had 
been so inclined. **They had daily oppcwtunities to do so,'' 
Mr. Gookin says, <' But it pleased God so to restrain them, 
that not the least hurt was done to any English person, 


* I 



onlj flometiiiies they might kill an Englishman's oow or 
swine, when thej wanted food." After all, these fierce 
Maqnas were not actuated bj a mere thirst fin* shedding 
blood. Thej were bent on conquest, and in pursuit of it 
thej spared themselves no exertion, and they spared the 
enemy no pang it was in their power to inflict. But, not 
being at war with the English, why should they murder 
them ? With them they had no hereditary feud, handed 
down fitmi fiither to son, till it became a point of honor with 
the tribe to maintain it 

Often, when the infimt settlements of Brookfield and I^n- 
easter were asleep, and not even the dogs gave signal of 
strangers at hand, the armed band of grave warriors was 
marching by, within a few rods of the white man's dwell- 
ing, — and he slept on till morning undisturbed. 

Often, when some out-dwelling fiurmcr was intent on his 
work in the field, an Indian's eye was watching him firom 
behind a fallen log ; and the quick, flitting slmdows, so soon 
kst in the deep recesses of the forest, were not, as he 
thought, all made by the tree-tops bending to the wind. 
More than one plumed and painted figure, during the last 
half hoar, has noiselessly glided behind him, from one huge 
trunk to another, till safe within the swamp, and hidden 
in the depth of the wood. Whdn the fiomer went to his 
home at night, he could tell his fiunily of trees felled, of 
ground broken up for seed ; of pleasant thoughts too, he 
loid, and meditations on comfortable passages of Scripture ; 
.bat| of those mysterious shadows which flitted about him, he 
said nothing. Perhi^ the good man told his children of 
.•one bright-eyed butl, or squurrel that peered at him from 
its kfty treop but those other brij^t eyes behind the log, he 



had not noticed, and the watcher was now fiur on his way 
towards the next settlement 

Our Praying Indians mostly escaped injury. One or 
two about Wamesit were killed, but no Maquas were seen 
near Natick or Hassanamesit, where the churehes were 
planted. Mr. Oookin piously says, '' Doubtless the great 
Gk>d, who is compassionate to his poor children, did so guide 
and order their motions, that they never shot a bullet or an 
arrow at any person near these towns ; but yet the poor 
praying Indians were under great fears and terrors, and 
were yery much distressed and discouraged by their, fears. 
Tet through 6od*s grace and fiivor they bad no hurt*' 

One September afternoon, in the year 1665, five stout 
young men, well armed, came out of a swamp near by, and 
entered the house of John Taylor, in Cambridge. Only 
two women and a lad were at home, and Uiey felt some 
alarm at seeing their visitors, — a sufficiently startling 
sight ; five armed men, iooch with a gun, a pistol, a hatchet, 
and'a long knife hanging about his neck ; each withhis pack 
or knapsack at his back, for powder, bullets, &o. Indians, 
too, the new-comers were, and not of their acquaintance. 
As soon as they spoke, the women perceived that they were 
of adilTerent people; their speech was more hollow, and 
deep in the throat In a good deal of suspicion and agita- 
tion, the people sent privately (the lad, I dare say, ran out 
at the back way) to seek adrice and assistance from the 
authorities of the town. A constable, with a party of men, 
went immediately to John Taylor's house and seised die 
strangers, who made no resistance. Indeed, it was thought 
by some that they were willing to be apprehended, that they 
might the better observe the Englidi manner of living. 
Tlid constable was ordered to remove their arms and ao- 




eoatraneots, and to secure them in prison until they could 
be examined. They must have exdted great curiosity and 
attention, for thou^ the English had heard much of the 
Maquas, they had never seen any of them before. 

I>uring their imprisonment, although loaded with iwms, 
they showed no dejection or fear, but sang and shouted, day 
and ni^t, whenever they were awake. 

In a day or two they were removed with a guard to the 
Boston prison, and were brought up before the court several 
times for examination. To the interrogatories put to them, 
they made answer, that they did not come with the intention 
of domg the least wrong to the English, but to avenge 
themselves of the Indians their enemies. They were told it 
was inhuman, more Uke wolves than men, to travel so for 
fitmi home merely to kill and destroy men, women, and 
children, since they could not hope for booty from our In- 
dians, who were very poor. Their manner of fighting was 
held up to tfiem, as base and ignoble. To lie hidden, skulk- 
ing in Uiickets and swamps by die wayside, and thus to kill 
their enemies, was mean and unworthy of warriors. If they 
irere men of courage and nobleness of spirit, tiicy would 
ight their enemies openly and in a plain field, and so put 
an end to the cruel war, one way or another. 

The Maquas were probably a littie nettied at tiiese re- 
maria, for tiiey answered, shortly, it was their mode of 
Ufe; tiiey wero bred up by tiieir ancestors to act w tins 
manner towards tiieir enemies. 

The exdtement of this affidr was not confined to Cam- 
bridge. The Indians of the vkrini^ flocked into Boston in 
mat nnmben, not only to see die Maqua braves, but ear- 
Midy to petition die court not to let tiiem e«»pe, but to 



put them to death, or at least to deliver them into theur 

« For," said they, '' these Maquas are unto us as wolves 
are to your sheep. They secretly seize upon us and our 
children, wherever they meet us, and destroy us. Now, if 
wo had taken five wolves alive, and should let them go 
again, and not destroy them, you Englishmen would be 
greatly olTendcd with us for such an act And surely the 
lives of men are of more wordi than beasts." 

The court felt some perplexity how to conduct the affair 
as became wise and Christian men. To put the Maquas to 
death, who had certainly done the English no wrong, would 
be to provoke the sleepless enmity of a subtlo and daring 
people, and to expose all the remote settlements to a fearful 
amount of suiTering. On the other hand, to refuso the re- 
quest of the neighboring Indians would certainly offend them. 
This, howovcr, was not so great an eril. They were not 
only less dangerous if their displeasure should be aroused, 
but they were now so connected with the whites, by the ob- 
h'gations of Cliristianity, and tho tics of commerce, that the 
English had more hold upon them, and would have more 
opportunity to quiet and compose their minds. 

The court, therefore, made answer, that it was not becom- 
ing the prudence, or the honor of a great nation like the 
English, nor suitable to their Christian profession, to begin 
a war with a people who had not killed any of their coun- 
trymen ; and as the English had not known the origin of 
the quarrel between the Maquas and the other trib^, and 
could not decide which party had been the aggressor, it was 
impossible that dioy should make themselves the judges, or 
espouse the part of eitiier; and, in cooolusk^n, that to take 


t i 

I ■ 

'■ I 




smj the lires of five men, who had Tolantarily o(»m into 
one of thdr towns, wonld be « great injustice. 

The Maasachoaetts Indiana, thoagh not aatiafied, were 
silenced with theae aignmenta, and the Maqaas were act 
free, reoeiring at their departnro, a letter to their sachem 
from the English aathorities. In this it was written, that 
these fire men, baring come armed into an English house, 
had been taken and examined; that the magistratea, aftor 
questioning them, had restored to them all their arms and 
other prqterty, giving them also a present of coats, and had 
pcotected them from their enemies, and taken care that they 
■hovld be safelj conducted beyond the border. 

The letter went on to request the Maqua chief to finHUd 
his pe<^le to injure or kill, any of tho Indians living under 
the English protection, and within the distance of forty 
miles from them in any direction, who might easily be dis* 
tingnished from the other natives, by their short hair and 
their dress of English fashion. He was also desired not to 
permit his people to go armed into any of the settlements ; 
any Maqua sent on business into a town, was to repair at 
ODce to the magistrate, or to opA his errand to the first 
Englishman he met 

Bearing this letter to the sachem, the Maquas were dis- 
missed, with an escort of horse to aooompany them into the 
woods, till they should be clear of their enemies. " And," 
adds oar histcNian, writing ten or twelve years aftor the 
oeeurence, " we heard no more of them since." 

la the year 1669, Wampataok, or Josiah Chikatanbut, 
fhe SOB otM Hoase-*>fire, etdleeted and commanded an ex* 
peditioB into the country of the liaquas. Wampatuek was a 
stoat man, of middle age, and had a reputation for wisdom. 
Ha was bna|^t up liy his nnelo Outdiamakin, and seemt 

THI lfAQirA& 


to have re«mbled him in cha»ctor. Hewas a catechi«d 
^ and h«l con^derable knowkdge of the Christ^ 

Ae sl^i" " T*** ^ P"^"^ •» «»' • tJ-*. "Hi kept 
Ae &bbath several yeam, but aftorwanls sepai^ted f«^ 

aSS" '"? S*""*' ""^ '^""^ • ^^'.^ viciourpc«o„. 

Z^Ti !' '^"^"ir^ '''^'' "S^""^ •"«» 'tout cap. 
tansofdBt.nct.on The enterprise was planned and undei^ 
taken wiAout the knowledge, and carried on contmry to Z 
•dvK», of the.r English frienda Mr. Eliot and Mr. Goolut 
in part.culM- attempted to dissuade them, but without dfect 
An army of between six and seven hundred men set out; 
only fire of the nu.nbcr. Christian Indians, however. Their 
mai«h was not a rapid one, for, being in «, Lu«e a body 

Their proceedings were altogether unmilitary. When ther 
rnived near any friendly Indian towmi, thly wouM spend 
jeveral days there in quarters, feasting to ex'oess, boalSft 
v^mg and prating of their valor. Thus their desigS 
be«me known, and the enemy had plenty of time to pTo- 
paw. BesHles the evil of delay, much of their ammuniUon 

oTJoTg^ i-r :pir ^' ^^' ^'^ • •--«• ™ 

wbii ^\^\?^ ^ t^« ««*«»» fort of the Maquas, 
Jjich by this timo wa, well strengthened and prodded 

The Ma«s«hujetto army besieged it for some days, but their 

U.«r men s«k, and severd killed in a «,dden sali; from the 
fort, th^r thought it best to retreat They h«i^not g^ 
jW^nty or thirty miles, when, passing irough a <£le 
with thK* swamps on e«,h hand, they wew sudLlyfiwd 


I < 





Upon by the Maquiks. A Btrong party liod issQcd from the 
fort, and by taking a circuit IieuI got in front, tuid waited in 
unbush till the others came up. The Mnasachusctts, though 
taken by surprise, and though many of their men had fallen 
&t the first fire, fouglit bravely, and pursued tlie Mm^uos 
into the thickets. Wampatuck, after performing great ex- 
ploits of valor, vas slain, as vero about fifty of his captains- 
How many the Maquus lost is not known. AVlicn night 
came on, they retired, and the scO'Coast Indians made the 
best of their way home. 

Great was the mortification of the baflled warriors, who 
had also to lament the loss of most of tlicir chief men ; and 
effectually were they convinced of their folly in attempting 
this design, contrary to the advice of their best friends. 
Only one of the Praying Indians returned alive, 

This was tlic bst gi-cat battle with the Moqaos. For the 
next two years, botii parties were quiet, and suspiciously 
watching each other; tlio Massachusetts Indians retiring 
cloee under the wings of the English, and the Maquas ap- 
peariDg not bo ready to invade as before. In the year 
1671, by the mediation of the English, and the Dutch in 
New York, a peace was concluded between the Maqnos and 
their enemies in Alassochnsetts, who were left by this war 
moch disoouraged, scattered, and impoverished. 

" He to the eltmcnta did aland 

In nanr kindml, than our TWM, 
la man/ a Bood la madnoi toned, 

Id many a ilonn tus been hii path : 
Be hid him not tron beat or frost. 

Bat met tlieni, ud deBed tbelr wntk 

"ncD tb«7 w«i« kind — tht Ibreili ha% 
BiwB, u4 MiUcr watm, [*id 



A tribale to the net and ipoar 
or the ind ruler at the ihidti 

FmilB on the woodland bnt&ohee Iw, 
Kooti in the shaded mil below; 

The ilan looked ftrth la i«aoh hit wkt 
The .tUl earth warned hbn of the fci' 

" A noble »*» < bo( th^j an, goa^ 

With their old treela wide and deep. 
A«J w. h.T. bailt oor homomnm 


^ ■»• '^««Xit" *■*. i. b.1 'T '» -lair 




arriTftl, from the parable of the 
BOO. in the twentT-eeooiid ehapter 

OB the evening of 
BMurriage of the 
of St Matthew. 

The reason of Wannalancet'a delay in profeflsing Chria- 
tianitj, was the ayersion to it of his ehief men and relatives, 
who wonld, he fbrosaw, desert him if he tamed from ihe old 
&ith. But, on this visit of the English, it pleased God so 
to move his heart, that when he was requested to give his 
answer eonoerning praying to God, after some deliberation 
and serious pause, he stood up, and made a speech to this 


" Sirs, you have been pleased for four ycara past, in your 
abundant love, to apply yourselves particularly to me and 
my people, to porauade us to pray to God. I am very 
thankful to you for your pains. I must acknowledge I 
have all my days used to pass in an old canoe, and now you 
exhort me to change and leave my old canoe and embark in 
a new canoe, to which I have hitherto been unwilling, but 
BOW I yield up myself to your advice, and enter into a new 
ftft ^, and do engage to pray to Ged hereafter.'' 

Several English porsonsi of distinctkm in the oobny, were 
present when the sachem made. this declaration; — among 
whom were Mr. Danid, a gentleman from Billerica, six 
miles from the Falls ; and Lieutenant Henchman, of 
Chelmsford, " beskles brother Eliot and myself," says Mr. 
Qookio, *' with sundry othera, English and Indians." 

Mr. Diimol requested Mr. Eliot to tell the sachem, from 
him, thai " while he went in his old canoe, it may have 
becB upon a full ani quiet stream, but the end thereof 
would surely be death ; but now that he had embarked in 
the new canoe, though perhaps he would meet with storms 



and rough passages, he must take courage and perseverSi 
for the end of his voyage would be everlasting rest" 

We are told that after this time, the sachem continued 
an earnest and diligent hearer, and was constant in his 
attendance on the meeting at Wamesit, from which his 
house was two miles distant. Some of his people did for- 
sake him, on account of ids change from the old canoe, but 
he remained unshaken. 

The war with the Maquas had, to some extent, interfered 
with the prosperity of tlie settlement at Wamesit One or 
two of the Indians here had been killed, several wounded, 
and othera carried away prisonen. The people were kept 
in continual fear, and the growth of the town prevented. 
Unfortunately it lay nearly in the war-path of the dreaded 
Maquas, towards the Piscataqua river ; and Mr. Eliot seems 
to have feared that the region around was about to become a 
thoroughfare for the marauden. 

In other respects, it had some advantages of situation. 
It was but little more than twenty miles from Boston, where 
the Indians might have found a ready market for the fish, 
which it was easy for them to take in great abundance. 
They might have furnished a regular supply of fresh sal- 
mon, which, in the season, would have brought a good price; 
and other sorts, as sturgeon and bass, they could have salted 
and pickled for sale. As they had plenty of horses, com- 
munication with Boston was easy. But their indolence and 
improvidence were not to be overcome. 

About seventy-five Christian Indians lived at Wamesit, 
in 1674. Numphow was the eivil ruler under Mr. Gookin. 
Hewasofthefiunilyoftheduefsachem. His son, Samuel, 
was the teacher. Samuel was a young man, of good abili* 
tiesy had been educated at the charge of the Society for 









Propagaltng the Qoepel, and could speak, read and writer 
both English and Indian rery well. 

As Naiidc was the earliest, so it was the principal town 
of the Christian Indians. Here was one of the two charch- 
es ; here their most important coarts were held. The num- 
ber of fiimilics was twenty-nine, which, reckoning fire for a 
fiunily, gives us a hundred and forty-five persons in this 
town, in the year 1674. There were over fifty communi- 
cants of the churah hero, bat some of them were probably 
residents of other places, and only held ohuroh-membership 
at Natick. 

On one occasion, when Mr. Eliot was preaching at Na- 
tick, he administered the ordinance of baptism unto several 
diildren, whose parents had already made profession of their 
fiuth, and had been admitted to the church ; and in his ser- 
mon, observed that baptism was Christ^s mark, which lie 
had ordered to be set upon his lambs, as a manifest token 
of his love to the olbpring of his people. There was pres- 
ent thn day, and listening with great attention to Mr. Eliot's 
discourse, a child of about eleven years old, already remark- 
able for his grave and serious depdrtment, and, considering 
his years, for his devout attention to the Word. He par- 
ticuburly remarked this expression of Mr. Eliot*s, and often 
entreated his &ther and mother, that one or both of them 
would endeavor to be received into the church, so that he 
Bii|^t be marked for one of Christ's lambs, before he died ; 
far he was of a delicate and consumptive constitution, which 
gave little promise of a long life. The parents, who were 
T«ry wen disposed, especially the mother, and very aflec- 
tkMiate towards their child, like most of the Indians, were 
deeply moved by his earnest and often-repeated solicita- 
tisnsi and were led to much serious consideration; the 

result waS| that both were joined to the church not long 
after, — the mother first, and afterwards the father of the 
child. The boy himself was baptised, rejoicing greatly 
that now ho was marked for one of Christ's lambs. <* And 
now," said he to his fitther and mother, <' I am wilh'ng to 
die.*' And he did, indeed, die within a short time ; ami 
as he had had Christ*s name set upon him in baptism and 
by fitith, so doubtless his Redeemer Ims given him the new 
name '' which no man knoweth, saving ho that rccciveth 

In addition to his other instructions, Mr. Eh'ot had set up 
a lecture in logic and theology, designed chiefly for those 
who were to become teachers, which he attended once a 
fortnight during the summer. From this early theological 
seminary, were sent forth teachers of good abilities, and a 
very considcrablo degree of knowledge. 

Waban, the Wind, now above seventy years of age, was 
still living at Natick, and breathed always a spirit of encour- 
agement and life into the other Indians. 

Mr. Gookin, after giving an account of the decorous and 
reverent manner in which the meetings here were con- 
ducted, at which he had often been present, goes on to 
say : 

" Their teachers are generally chosen from among them- 
selves (except some few English teachers), of the most 
pious and able men among them. If theso did not supply, 
they would generally bo destitute ; for the learned English 
young men do not hitherto inoh'no or endeavor to fit them- 
selves for that service, by learning the Indian hinguage. 
Possibly the reasons may be, first, the diflkulty to attain 
that speech ; secondly, little eneouragement while they pra- 
pare for it ; thirdly, the difficulty in the practice of such a 


cilling AiiiODg Uiem, by reMon of tbe poverty and barbarity 
whidi cannot be grappled with, nnlem the person be very 
nraeh mortifiedi self-denying, and of a public spirit, seeking 
greatly 6od*s glory ; and these are rare qualifications in 
young men." 

At the time of whidi we have been speaking, the teachers 
at Natiek were Anthony and John Speene, reputed grave 
and pious men. The hitter, especially, was a diligent reader, 
and was one of those who removed from Nonantum for the 
purpose of forming a church at Natiek. Yet, from this 
drardi he was expelled, and the disciple from whom so 
UMidi was hoped, died a drunkard. 

At Punkapoag, also, there was a ruler, constable and 
sdKwlmaster, as at Natiek ; and the same customs were 
followed in keeping the Sabbath, and in conducting publio 
worahip* This town, within the first ten years after its 
settlement, lost by death several honest and able men, 
unong them one teacher, of remarkable promise; others 
apeehitiaed and left the place, and these repeated misfor- 
tunes checked its advancement Mr. John Eliot, the eldest 
son of our Indian apostle, preached a lecture hero, once a 
fortnight, for several years, till ^' it pleased God to put an 
end to bis work and life," in 1668. This young man was 
the lint minister of Newton, then called Cambridge Vil- 
lage, and a very ezoellent preacher, but died early. In 
tUa town, which was not quite so fertile as some of the 
olhais, the Indians were employed in planting and in keep- 
ing ealtle and swine ; and beddes excellent fishing in the 
peada and upon the Neponset river, they had the advantage 
of s large eedar awamp, where the diligent among, them 
BMay a pound by cuttiQg. and preparing cedar 



shingles and clapboards, which sold well in Boston and the 
neighboring English towns. 

The second church had been gathered at Hassanamesit, 
in 1671. Tukapowillin was its pious and ablo pastor, and 
Piambouhou the ruling elder. The deacon was Naoas, 
fiither of the pastor. This aged Christian, with his wife 
and family, were persons of remarkable piety; '^the prin- 
cipal studs of the town," they are called by the old histo- 
rian. James, the printer, was one of his sons ; anotlier was 
a ruler in the town. 

The Indians of this settlement lived by husbandry, and 
by keeping cattle and swine, with which they were better 
supplied than any other Indian town of the same siio ; and 
they were said to do as well, or bettcnr, than any other 
natives, although still for short of the English in diligence 
and in prudence. Their hmd was rich and well watered, 
and they had several good orchards. Here was a meeting- 
house built in the English foshion, and two or three other 
houses, in tlio same mode ; but these the Indians '' fiincied 
not greatly to live in." 

Okommakamcsit was considered a very good plantation. 
The hind was fertile, and, being tolerably well UIIcmI, yielded 
plenty of com. There were also woodlands, and extensive 
meadows ; and several good orchards planted by the Indi- 
ans. Its close neighborhood to the English town of Marl- 
borough was not an advantage to this settlement Mr. 
Gookin, quoting the text, *' Under his shadow ye shall 
rejoice," remarks, " But the Indians do not much rejoice 
under the Englishman's shadow ; who do so overtop them 
in their number of people, stock of cattle, &c., that tbe 
Indians do not greatly flourish, or delij^t in their station 
at present" 



grounds, and from the adaptation of much of the 
soil to Indian methods of ooltore, it probably contained a 
conparatiTely large population. Owing to some niirecorded 
misfiMrtane, the Nipmncks were, at the period of oar story, 
a broken people, paying allegiance more or less complete to 
the neighboring chicft. From scattered fragments of his- 
tory, we form some idea of the extent of their dominion in 
the days of their independence. The Blackstooe was called 
the Nipmuck rirer. Nashua, now Lancaster, was in the 
Nipmudc coontry, as was also at the other extremity Wood- 
stock, in Cconecticat, distant in a straight line not less than 
fifty miles. 

From the first, these Indians lived on most pacific terms 
with the English settlers, who found them serviceable to them 
in theur planting, their hunting, and their trade. The feroc- 
ity of the savage never showed itself in the simple Nipmuck 

It was just the middle of September, in the year 1674, 
when Mr. Eliot and Mr. Oookin set out on their journey to 
the Nipmuck settlements. Their purpose was to establish 
civil government, as in the other' praying towns, to settle 
teadiers, and to confirm the Indians in the Christian reli- 
gnn. Five or six godly persons accompanied them, who 
wero to be presented to the people for ministers. 

The first day they crossed tfie Nipmuck river, and ar- 
rived at Mandnge (Oxford), ten miles firom Hassanamesit, 
and about fifty fimn Boston. No land was yet granted to 
this Bor to any of the new praying towns, but the (General 
Court inteiided to do for them as had been done for the 
odier settlements of Christian bdians. Not finding the 
duef peraoQs hero, the travellers proceeded five miles fiir- 
tiMTle Dndleji which then bofo a harsh Indian name 



derived from a pond in the vicinity. The people here were 
better instructed in the Christian reUgion than those of any 
other of the new towns, having for their teacher Joseph, a 
very pious membw of the church at Hassanamesit He 
spoke English well, and was well lead in the Scriptures. 
It was he who had begun this settlement, and gathered the 
people about him, two years before. At this place also 
lived an Indian called Black James, who had been appointed 
constable of all the new praying towns, and had shown him- 
self so &ithful, lealous, and courageous in suppressing sin, 
that Mr. Gookin C(mfirmed him in his oflke for another year. 
Mr. Eliot preached a sermon, and they all preyed and sang 
psalms together. The Englishmen spent great part of the 
night in discourse, expkining to the Indians many matten 
of religion and polity, and next morning Joseph and Bkck 
James attended them to Maanexit, seven miles further on. 
This town was near the Mohegan river, now the Quinebaug, 
the principal branch of the Thames. There were here about 
a hundred people. Mr. Eliot preached a sermon, taking for 
a text this verse of the twenty-fourth Psalm : "£rt/? vp your 
heads, O yc gates, and be ye lift up, ye everlasting doors, 
and the King of glory shaU come in.'' I dare say the ex- 
cellent Mr. Eliot preached a good sermon, and what a noble 
Psalm to recite in that great forest temple I " The earth 
is the Lord's and the fulness thereof; the uwrU and they 
that dwell therein. For he hath founded it upon the seas 
and established it upon thejhods. Who shattascend 
into the hiUofthe Lord, andwhoshatt stand in his hdu 
place?'' ^ 

Six miles to the South was Quantisset^ where, fiw want 
of time, the two firiends did not go, but proceeded at onoe 
to Wabquisset The three phms kst mentiooed are all in 






Woodstock, a town of Connecticut, bat at that time oonsid- 
end a part of the Massachnaetts territory. Maanexit was 
in its north-east comer, Qnantisset in the south-east part, 
and Wabqnisset was at the soath-west corner. At this last 
were a hundred and fiftj people, who had just finished bar- 
fesUng a great crop of Indian com, fortj bushels to the acre. 

The traycllers arriyed hte in the eycning of the second 
daj, being now seventy-two miles from Boston. The sag- 
amore was not at home, but they took up their quarters in 
his spacious wigwam, and his squaw received them cour- 
teously, and provided liberally, according to their manner, 
iiir the Indians who accompanied Mr. Eliot The chief was 
well inclined to religion,. and held the meeting on Sabbath 
days at his house, which was sixty feet in length and twenty 
in width. The teacher here was Sampson, brother to the 
Joseph mentioned in the visit to Dudley. They were ibe 
sons of a former raler at Hassanamesit, described as "a 
courageous and stout man, in his time, for God and reli- 
gioD ; one that stood in the gap against the pride and inso- 
leney of wicked men, although sagamores." Both these 
brothers were hopeful, pious, and active men. Sampson, 
in his youth, had been inclined to evil courses. A few 
years befinre the time of this visit, Mr. Gookin had been 
fixced to punish him with some severity, for various mis- 
demean(»8, and now found him very thankful for that dis- 
cipline. Many of the principal people came to the wigwam 
where Mr* Eliot and Mr. Gookin lodged, and much of the 
night was spent in prayer, in singing psalms, and in reli- 
gious dkmmrse. 

One person present, after sitting along time silent, made 
a qpeedi, declaring himself the agent of Uncas, sachem of 
the Mobegaoa, who claimed to himself dominion over thia 
people of Wabqniaaet; and, continued he, '^Uncaa ia not 

well pleased, that the English should pass over Mohegan 
river, to call his Indians to pray to God.'' 

Mr. Eliot made reply, that it was his work to call upon 
all men everywhere, especially the Indians, to repent and 
embrace the gospel ; but that he did not meddle with ciril 
right or jurisdiction. 

Mr. Gookin next addressed the stranger, desiring him to 
repeat to Uncas his declaration that Wabquisset was within 
the jurisdiction, and belonged to the govcmment of Massa- 
chusetts, and that the authorities of that colony held it their 
concem to promote the good of all the people within their 
limits, especially of such as embraced Christianity. Yet 
they had no intention of interfering with the just and an- 
cient right of the sachems over the Indians, in respect of 
paying tribute or any other dues, and had themselves drawn 
from these people no taxes of any kind. The main design 
of the English was to bring them to the knowledge of God 
in Christ Jesus, and to suppress the sins of drunkenness, 
idolatry, witchcraft, murder, and the like. 

Next moming, Mr. Eliot preached a sermon in the Indian 
language, after the s«nging of a part of the one hundred and 
nineteenth Psalm. When the service was over, Mr. Gookin 
proceeded to hold a court He confirmed the authority of 
the teacher and constable, charging them to be faithful and 
diligent, and enjoining upon the people obedience to the 
gospel, and to those who were set over them. 

He then gave the omstable a warrant, empowering him 
to suppress drankenness. Sabbath-breaking, and especially 
powawing and idolatry ; ho was in the first instance to warn 
any delinquent, and then to apprehend and bring him to the 
proper authority to answer for his misdeeds; those guilty of 
smidler fimlts were to appear before Wattasacompanum 


I' ' 






f . 




(Oaptain Tom), the ruler of the Nipmuck ooontry; ill 
caaes of idolatrj and powawing mast be bronj^t before the 
faperintendenti Mr. Oookin, himeelfl 

And 80 Kt eleren o'clock thej took leare of the people 
here, and returned to Maanexit, and then to Dudley, where 
they spent the night The next daj's journey was only as 
fiur as Pakachoog, a hill in the south of what is now Wor- 
cester. Here, again, they were welcomed and kindly enter- 
tained, and as soon as the people could be assembled, Mr. 
Eliot preached to them, and 1^. Gookin held a court as on 
the day before, with Tery nearly the same forms. Captain 
Tom was in attendance, and assisted Mr. Gookin. He has 
already been mentioned as the ruler of the Nipmucks, and 
waa of the blood of their chief sadiem. Rulers and teachers 
were confirmed, and the constable chosen by the peojde 
approved, — " a grave and sober Indian, called Matoonas.'' 
It was agreed that Jethro should be sent as teacher to the 
Nashaways at Weshakim and Lancaster, Sholan's people, 
BOW much diminished in number by the Maqua war and 
other calamities. An Indian belonging to that people came 
at night and requested leave to Bpeak to Mr. Gookin, from 
whom he desired help to suppress drunkenness, and the dis- 
orders arising from it, among the Nashaways. Mr. Gookin 
offinred to make him a constable, with power to apprehend 
drunkards, and take away their strong drink ; and it was 
agreed be should first consult his friends, and, if they were 
willing to dioose him to that oflke, he would return to the 
English magistrate to receife the Uack stal^ and the author- 
ity of a constable. 

Next day the trafelkn letumed through Marlborough 
hooie la Boston. 

One town, on the west bank of the Vipmuck river, was 

MOBi pRATnra towns. 


not at this time visited ; its teachers were fitwi the church 
at Hassanamesit, which was only ten miles distant 

Fourteen towns of praying Indians in Massachusetts. 
This is a summary of the whole number of Christian Indians 
in 1674 : 

loMMMehoMtto^niidflrtlMOMWoflfr. Siol» 1100 

In PlTBKNith CtHtpmjt 700 

On Nantiioket, 800 

On Bfartha't Yln^jnid mm! Gh^ipeqoiddiOt nndsr the mn of Um 
MnylMWft 1600 

Totd, seoo 

Mr. Eliot states in one of his letters that six churches 
had been gathered among them, — one at Natick, one at Has- 
sanamesit, one at Marshpee, two at Martha's Vineyard, and 
one at Nantucket These had been formed in the same 
way as among the English, and were all furnished with re- 
ligious officers, except the church at Natick, where, Mr. 
Eliot writes, " in modesty they stand ofi^ because so long as 
I live, they say, there is no need." Dr. Francis observes, 
in his life of Mr. Eliot, '' There is something touching in 
their aflfectionate reverence for the apostle, which would 
allow them to receive no other teacher, while his hallowed 
voice could be heard." 

In this year, 1674, the communities of Christian Indians 
had reached the highest state of prosperity to which they 
ever attained. 

«« Father, thj Iwad 
HAtk reared tlMee vmernbls colamns : Tlioa 
DklatweafeUiieTfrdMitrooll Then didat loek down 
Upon tlie naked earth, and, iMtliwith, roaa 
AUtheeeSdriankaoftreM. Thcylnthjeui 
Badded, and ahook their grew leasee la thj breeae» 



1 : 


' i 





ill' I 


Aad ihol towwd* bwTm. Tb* egntQf74lTlB| <ni 
mam birth wm* Id UmIt h^, pvw oU tnd diad 
AMoag tMr bnnohca ; till, kt iMt, Uw; •toad, 
Aa BOW tb«7 itud, ma^, and tall, Md dwk,— 
FH lAriae tar bnmbU wonhlpper to bold 
Ctaamukn *riUi bit lUker. 

Tb«MUMd«. Tboaartln tbentftwiDdi 
n*t ran aloBf tbe raniniita of tbcn tnca 
In inula. Tboa Bit In tbe cooler bnnth. 
That, flroM tha Inmost darknMB of the plaao, 
Caata, aeaml; Ml ; tlM boi^ tronka, the gnmai. 
The frtab, BMiat sToud, Bia all biatlBet with Tbaih 

Hcia ia aontlBnal worabtp : natai«, bera, 
!■ tha tmiqiilllitr that Thoa doal Ion, 
EdJoji Tb; pnstnot. Ndaalcnly ttnaai, 
Fran panh to paroh, the K^laij bird 
Pbbm i and job clear tpring. that, ^dtt Ha hm^ 
Valla Boftlj Inlh, and Tislts tbe atnmg roota 
Of half tba mlRht; (bnat, Ulli no Ule 
Of all the good it docs. Thou but not kA 
ThTfdf without a witncM, Id these ibadta. 
Of Th7 perftetlona. OrudenT, atnngtb, aad (ma^ 
Ara ben to aptak eTTlM*. Tfaia mlgfa^ oak,— 
Bj wboas ImBorable stem I itaod, and aaan 
AloMiat annibilated, — not a prioee, 
!■ aU tha pnmd old world b^ond tba deep, 
B>er won Us erawn aa loftilr aa be 
Wean tha gnm ooronal of leana, with lAieb 
T^ hand baa KraeedbloL Neatlad at hta reat 
ti baa«^, awh aa blcaoa not in the ^lai* 
Oflbabtaadtw. That ddieala Ibreat Boww, 
VU aewM biwtb, and look so lika a MBa, 

Aa - -f ■ of tba iadwdllni LUb, 
A TWkla toksK of Iha npMdlng Lm, 
Aat an tba aad af tU* wUa nhna." 




HE district whero Moaaosoit and } 
hia own clan of the Wampanoaga, 
''I that is to say, his kindred and per- " 
■oul fblhnren, chiefly lircd, wu known imong th« Nut»- 
jpageti hj the nanw of Fokanokct, which signified in tbrir 
Uogiugs "the wood (ff kodoa thoothwudeof the wmter." 
It wu the r^ion now oonstitating Brktol, Barrington, tod 
Wanvn, in Bbode blind, with Swusej ud Seekook in 
Masaehiuetto, ud ma lepinted hj Uyud rifer from the 
NungutMt ooontrf. 
This wdieni, like otben, had pUoee of temponty nn* 



dfloee, hnniing-lioaaes and fishing-houses, at Raynham, and 
Middlebonmgh, and elsewhere between the two great bays; 
bat his bead-qnartera were at Sowams (Warren), the capi- 
tal, if we may so term it, of the Wampanoag nation. 

Now, howoTer, since 1662, or thereabouts, Massasoit is 
dead. The mild old sachem is gone, indeed, to *' the land 
on the other side of the water," and his second son. Pome- 
tacom, better known by his English name, Philip, is chief 



The diaracter and history of this able and unhappy 
prince finrm the most exciting chapter of our early aniuJs. 
But| tempting as the subject is, we shall not dwell upon it| 
exoqyt so fiur as it is connected with the fortunes of the 
Ghrbtian Indians. 

Whether in his father's lifetime young Philip had, in the 
siknoe of his own heart, cherished any resentful feeling 
towards the English, or reTolred any plans of future hostil- 
ity cannot be known. It is not improbable, finr his was a 
diaracter of intense pride, and of great sensibili^, and he 
must haTS met with much to wound both, in his own altered 
position and pospects, and those of his nation. And when 
the sceptre had descended to him by the death of his fiither 
and elder brother. King Philip, on his beautiful Mount 
Hope, must have had many an hour of sad and bitter 

•« Ht nw tiM doiid ordaiiMd tosrow^ 
And Imni upon hit hfllt la wm ; 
Ht nw hit peopi* withering bgr 
Bennth tht iaTtder't tvQ lyt.** 

These white men had come to his country, tatij years 
befim, poor, suppliant^ and meek. It was his fiither's gen- 
enms kindntfm that had made them strong. And still, as 

they grew in wealth and power, the territory and the im- 
portance of his people had diminished. The hunting 
grounds had been encroached on, and one of the chief means 
of Indian subsistence was fast disappearing. It had ali*eady 
become difiicult to secure the game by the old methods of 
capture, and even witli the better weapons for which the 
tribes had begun to relinquish their own. And Philip had 
other provocations. Ilis brother Wamsitta, named Alexan- 
der by tlio English, an independent ruler, and a son of tlie 
generous Massasoit, had been treated by the Plymouth col- 
ony with great indignity, which so wrought on his passion- 
ate nature as to exasperate him to madness and death. 

Long brooding over these things, Philip finally matured 
a phn,— one of the grandest, certainly, that ever entered 
the mind of a savage, — of forming a general union of the 
native tribes, from Long Island Sound to the Penobscot, 
and exterminating every English settlement within those 

The very conception of this scheme shows the lofty genius 
of Philip. What other Indian ever dreamed of laying aside 
the hereditary rivalries, and jealousies, and rovengcs, for 
the sake of one common object of patriotism 7 

From timo immemorial a feud had existed between the 
Wampanoags and the Narragansets. Philip's first step was 
to seek alliance with these ancient foes of his house ; and 
the Narragansets consented to his proposal, for they had 
not forgotten the fiite of their Miantonomo, at EngUsh 

In the preparations for the execution of his grand design, 
the chief gave no less proof of his consummate abi%. 
Living as he did in the midst of the English, and the object 
of their suspicious scrutiny, he yet succeeded not only in 





drflling his own people in martial ezeroisea, but in making 
ndetocted viaito, and sccnring partisans all tlinm|^ the 


In 1071, it began to be whispered that the Wampanoagi 
were grinding their hatchets, and mending their guns ; and 
the Plymouth government, alarmed at these rumors, took 
measures for the immediate disarming of all the neighboring 
Indians. This step caused great indignation in the minds 
of Philip and his warriors. What right of control had Plym- 
mth orer themi The weapons now demanded they had 
pudiased from English traders; in some cases they had 
given in exchange for them largo portions of their domain. 
And now that bows and arrows had fidlen into disuse, the 
gun had become essential to their very existence. 

Philip evsded a general compliance with the requisition, 
and seems to have succeeded in lulling, for the time, the 
iuqiicions of the whites. For four years more he continued 
his preparations, collecting guns, powder, and buUott, mak- 
ing secret journeys among his now allies, and dreaming of 
Ae time when the intruders should bo driven back into the 
sea, out of which they came,' and his lands should bo again 
his own. Perhaps visions of a wider sovereignty thanMaa- 
iieoit's flitted before his mind. 

It was at this time he returned that haughty answer to 
the Ifsssachusotts coteny, who had sent to propose a treaty : 
"Your governor fa but a subject of King Charks, of 
Enghmd. I shall not treat with a subjecti I shall treat of 
peaoe only with the king, my brother." 

The outbreak was at fast hastened by the fiUe of a Chris- 
Indian. John Sassamon, called by the Ustorian ''a 

__ and pUosible Indian/' was the son of Christian 
psraitf living at Dorehsster. He was ednoated among the 



English, and succeeded Monequassun, as schoolmaster at 
Natick, where, however, ho did not long remain. Leaving 
that settlement, ho went to reside with Philip's brother, 
• Alexander, after whose death he was employed by Philip as 
a kind of secretary or interpreter. Growing restless again, 
or perhaps wearying of the savage life, he forsook the 
sachem, and returned to the English ; a defection which 
greatly enraged Philip, who had confided to him many of 
hfa secrets. 

About the year 1672, Sassamon was sent to preach to 
the Namaskets, and other Middleborough Indians, who were 
at that time very numerous. Here he learned much of 
what was going forward among his countrymen, and used to 
report it to the Englfah. Hfa information was not much 
regarded at Plymouth, but, coming to Philip's knowledge, it 
cost the informer hfa life. 

Early in the year 1675, Sassamon was missing. Seareh 
was made, and his body was at length found under the ice 
in a pond in Middleborough. Three Pokanoket Indians 
were tried and executed at Plymouth as hfa murderen, — 
another occasion of anger to the sachem, who held Sassamon 
as a base spy and traitor, while among the English he was 
looked upon as a martyr. 

Othor Christian Indians gave intimation to the English 
that a rising was at hand. In April, Waban went to one 
of the magfatrates, and told him he had reason to believe that 
Sachem Philip and some of hfa confederates intended mis- 
chief shortly. A few weeks later he renewed hfa warning, 
saying that '* when the woods were grown thick with green 
trees, war would surely b^n." 

On the 24th of June, 1675, hostilities commenced. The 
Indians made an attack on the town of Swanseyi and ei|^t 






or nino English were killed. There was a saperstition 
among the Indians that whicherer pert/ fired the first gun 
wouM be oonquered in the end ; and thej had, a few days 
before this, purpose!/ prorokod an Englishman to fire apon 
thenii and one of their number had been wounded. But, 

«« Who spOlt Iht fcrenott iiensii't lUb» 
Thai party oonqiNn in Iht ilrifty*' 

would ha?6 been the true augurj. 

Philip was not present at the attack upon Swanse/, and 
when it was reported to him, it is said that he wept The 
crisis was come ; the struggle had at length begun which 
was to decide his ovm fate and that of his people ; nor from 
that hour was he ever seen to smile. 

Upon the first news of the breaking out of the war, the 
Phkjing Indians constructed forts for their security, and put 
themselves in a posture of defence. It was suggested that 
a proportion of English should be placed in each of these 
forts, that thoj might together range the woods from town 
to town ; thus forming, as it were, a living wall to guard the 
finonticr. This measure would have brought about a better 
understanding between t]^ English and the firiendljr Indi- 
anS| and the neglect of it became the occasion of manjr 
calamities to both. 

The Prajing Indians were very desirous to show their 
fideli^ and affection, and to obey the authority of the Eng- 
lisL They knew that they must naturally be the objects 
of Philip's aversion, and that from him they had to expect 
only annoyance and injury. To their English protectors 
diqr looked fyr kindness and confidence; but it was their 
haid fiile to meet with distrust hom both sides, and they 
have deeply felt the iigustice of those whose religit 


they had adopted, and to whom they had given their alle- 

In the first expeditions of the Engh'sh against King 
Philip, the only firiendly Indians employed were three, wlio 
acted as guides. The colonists made light of the enemy, 
■ftjii^gf "One Englishman could chastise ten Indians." 
This contempt for their race, both as enemies and as allies, 
shown in so many ways by those whom they venerated, 
wounded the self-love of the Indians, and had a very 
dispiriting tSkct 

The English, however, soon found that it was not an easy 
thing to contend against an unseen foe. Any harmless- 
looking thicket along their march might be the lurking- 
place of unerring marksmen, whose aim already covered the 
advancing files. From some still, lovely spot, — so lovely 
and so still that Captain Mosely and his company, in un- 
conscious admiration, move more leisurely along, — comes 
of a sudden, a shower of deadly bullets. The soldiers dis- 
charge their pieces into the woods, and listen as they load 
again ; but, on right and left, the silence remains unbroken. 
Not a single foot-fall, not even the rustle of a bough, betrays 
the presence of an enemy. Or, sometimes, by slow, imper- 
ceptible degrees, the shrubs themselves draw nearer to the 
outposts of the English camp, and the sentinel is shot, before 
he has made out in the dim light why that juniper-bush on 
the hill-side looks larger than it did half an hour ago. For 
it was a fikvorite stratagem of Philip's men, to apparel them- 
selves from the waist upwards with green boughsi and so 
ateal dose upon an unsuspecting enemy. 

Before the war had been carried on a fortnight it was 
found best to accept the assistance of the firiendly Indians, 
who possessed some of the qualifications most useful in such 











a eontest In the strength and qoickness of their sight, fiur 
instance, the/ greatljr ezoelled the whites. Standing on the 
sea-shore, the Indian could see a sail an hoar or two sooner 
than the Englishman bj his side. In the forest, where 
European e/es detect no traco of human passage, the rod 
man, quickljr glancing round, peroeires some bent or broken 
twig, some newljr-firacturod rotten stick, and his suspicions 
are instantlj aroused, — and now, a little tuft of moss tells 
him a foot has lately pressed it, and without hesitation he 
strikes the trail and follows. 

His silence and wariness, too, gave now and then a useful 
lesson to the English. A Mohcgan, marching with the 
Connecticut soldiers, noticed that one of his new comrades 
wore creaking shoes, and prevailed upon him to take his 
moccasins instead, while he slung the Englishman's shoes at 
his back, and went barefoot 

On the 2d of Juljr, then, Mr. Gookin was sent to the 
prajing towns, with a requisition for one-third part of their 
able men to join the army at Mount Hope. The Indian com- 
pany was quickljr raised, and consisted of fifty-two men, who 
were conducted to Mount Hope by Captain Isaac Johnson. 
The ofiiccrB under whom they senrcd, among others Savage, 
the maj<»r-gencral of the expedition, testified to their cour- 
age and conduct ; yet many of the army, officers, and men, 
were deeply prejudiced against them, and tried all in their 
power to bring them into discredit 

Job Nesutan, Mr. Eliot's old teacher and interproteri 
WIS one of the fifty-two, and was killed during this cam- 
paign. Thomas Quanapohit, also called Bumney-Marsh| 
fima the name of his reaidenee near Chelsea, k)st his right 
hand by a singular aeeident He was one of the troopers, 
9ad earned a gun of remaricable length. The weather 



being excessively hot, and the flies very troublesome, his 
horse became uneasy, and struck the lock of tlie gun, which 
went off, horribly mangling the luind that held it The 
wound was a long time in getting well, but Quanapohit yet 
rendered good service in this war, though he was now an 
old man of eighty-six. 

While this company was absent, the settlement at Marl- 
borough was incrcttscd to the number of forty men, besides 
women and children. From Ilassanamosit, Magunkook, 
and other praying towns, the Indians came in, and built a 
fort in Marlborough, upon their own land, hoping not only 
for security to themselves, but to give help to tlie English. 
Some of them, going out one day to scout, found traces of 
strangers, and immediately came to report the discovery to 
a lieutenant of militia, commanding in the town. Then, 
with some English companions, they pursued the track, and 
took seven Indians. These were sent down to Cambridge, 
and on examination were found to bo Narragansets and 
Long Islanders, who had been at work on tlie Merrimack, 
and, when they heard of the war, had come off privately, 
marching by stealth through the woods. They were kept 
in prison a few days, and then released. 

About the 26th of July, of this year, Oneko, the eldest 
son of Uncas, with two of his brothers and fifty Mohcgan 
warriors, all armed wilh guns, lodged at Natick, on their 
way to Boston. When they arrived in Boston, they pre- 
sented to the governor and council a letter from Mr. Fitch, 
minister of Norwich, and declared their desire to assist the 
English against Philip. Three Naticks were furnished 
them as guides, and in a &w days they marched for 

The night of their anivali Philip, with about five hundred 




men, passed bjr, within two or three miles o( their quarters. 
Oneko followed, immediateljr on disoorering him, and a fight 
took phice at about ten o'clock on the morm'ng of August 
Ist The Natick Indians behaved yerj well, and urged 
further pursuit of the enemy; but, owing to the extreme heat 
of the weather, and the eagerness of the Mohcgans to load 
themselves with plunder, the main bodjr escaped. 

Mr. Gookin thinks, if the advice of the Christian Indians 
had been taken, Philip might at this time have been made 
prisoneri which would perh^M have put an end to the war. 

Philip now left the Pokanoket country, and was supposed 
to be in the vicinity of the Connecticut river. The Massa- 
chusetts government, fearing the Nipmucks might be induced 
to join the sacliem, sent Captain Hutchinson to treat with 
them. In all the various transactions of tho settlors with 
the Indians of the Nipmuck country, there had been no 
charges of wrong or injustice on either side. Mutually 
feeble, and mutually dependent, they had constantly inter- 
changed offices of kindness. When our fiithors were in want 
of bread, soon after their arrival, one of these people carried 
ft bushel and a half of com 6n his back, all the way to Bos- 
ton, for their relief. Many of this inoffensive people were 
known to owe allegiance to Philip, and therefore diis em- 
bassy from the English to prevent them fix>m joining him. 
Captain Ilutchinson was selected as commissioner, from his 
habits of intercourse and acquaintance with their chiefik 
He had a very considerable ferm in that country, and had 
often employed some of the Nipmucks in ploughing and 
tilling his land. When it was known that an interview was 
daairad with some of the chiefe, they sent word that th^ 
would speak with none but Captain Hutchinson. 
' He marched fitMn Cambridge on the 28th of July, aocom- 



panied by Captain Wheeler and a guard of twenty-five sol- 
diers. For interpreters and guides they had Uie two 
brothers, Joseph and Sampson, and their kinsman, George 
Memecho. The Nipmuck chicb had agreed to meet the 
English at a certain tree, on a plain three miles from the 
vilhigo of Brookfield ; but when tho Epglish arrived there 
they found no Indians to treat with. Still going on, though 
warned against it by Joseph and Sampson, when they came 
near Quaboag, or Wickaboag Pond, in Brookfield, between 
a swamp on the left, and a very high hill on the right, they 
were suddenly fired on by two or throe hundred Nipmucks. 
Eight men were killed, throe others mortally wounded, among 
whom was the commissioner Hutchinson. His friends cai^ 
ried him from tho field, and he died at Marlborough, after 
a few weeks* suffering. Captain Wheeler's horse was shot 
under him, and ho also was wounded, but his life was saved 
by the bravery of his son, who, though his own arm was 
broken by a bullet, succeeded in mounting his fiither upon 
his horse, and getting him away. 

The three Christian Indians rendered eminent senrice on 
this day. If they had not proved sagacious, bold and fiuth- 
ftil, not an Englishman could possibly have escaped. 
George Memecho fell into the hands of tho enemy ; the 
other two, by great skill and courage, led the English in 
safety to Brookfield. The fiito of those brothers was a sad 
one. It seems incredible that they should have been dis- 
trusted by the English after thisi but it is nevertheless 
true; and at length, wearied out with the suspicions and the 
ill-troatment of the whites, they did actually go over to 
Philip, or, as Mr. Gookin expresses it, " they fell away to 
the enemy." Sampson, the former hopeful and pious 
teacher at Woodstock| was afterwards killed, in a fi|^t near 



-Wadniaet, bj some Indians of the English partj. His 
hrother Joseph, who had been teacher at Dndlej, was 
taken m Pljrmoath oolonj, sold for a skre, and sent to Ja- 
maica. At the earnest intercession of Mr. Eliot ho was 
bronght back again, thoagh still held as a servant. His 
wife, a sober Christian woman, afterwards taught a school 
among the Indians, at Concord, and her children lived with 
her. The/ too had been redeemed bj Mr. Eliot 

Hemecho, the third of the guides, escaped from his cap- 
tors at Brookfield, and brought information that Philip had 
oome up, and was lying about six miles from the swamp 
where the Captains Hutchinson and Wheeler had been at- 
tacked, — that he had now with him but forty-eight men, 
of whom thirty had guns, the others bows and arrows. Ha 
also stated that Philip expressed great joy on hearing of 
Ae attack at Quaboag, and had given a peck of wampum 
to each of the three sagamores concerned in it One of 
these was named Mautamp or Netaump. 

The war went on; skirmish followed skirmish, towns 
were attacked and destroyed by the enemy, the dwelling- 
houses of the settlers burned, and almost every fitmily in 
the colony lost some friend or kinsman. As the popular 
terror of the savages increased, the feeling of hatred against 
an Lidiaas grew deeper, till their very name was abhorred. 
It was a cruel and treacherous race. Who could tell the 
fiuthfid, if such there might be, from the fiJse? 

The magistrates and leading men in vain attempted to 
eonlrol the tide of public feeling, which at length became 
so slroiig, diat, to satisfy the minds of the people, the gov- 
ernor and council, on the 80th of August, sent forth an 
order that the Indians should confine themselves to five of 
tlMir vfllaees; via., Natiek, Hassaaamesit» Nasbobah, Wa- 



mesit and Punkapoag.' They were not to stir above a mile 
from the centre of these phioes, on peril of their lives, 
unless in company with some Englishman. This order 
made it lawful for any person who should find an Indian 
travelling, either in the towns or the woods, beyond these 
limits, to bring him up for examination, or to destroy him as 
they best could. The council, however, declared that it 
would bo most accepiaUe that none should be killed or 
wounded who were willing to surrender themselves into 
custody. This order of the council was a cause of very 
great suffering to our Indians. They were hindered in 
their hunting, prevented fix>m looking after their cattle and 
swine, from getting in their com, and from working for the 
E nglish, besides being daily exposed to insult and injury at 
the hands of incensed or malicious Englishmen. 

That the minds of the whites should be in a highly in- 
flamed state, is not to be wondered at Fear, rage and sor- 
row, were all in turn excited by the incidents of tboso days; 
and justice and compassion towards any of the red men, how- 
ever helpless, however deserving, became diflknilt, — to some 
minds almost impossible. 

Mr. John Watson and Mr. Henry Prentiss, of Cambridge, 
who went to live at Natick, for tlirce months, as guardians 
or overseers of the Indians there, testified of them after- 
wards that they behaved themselves religiously towards 
God, and respectfully, obediently and fiuthfully, to. the 
English. Mr. Watson, who acknowledged that ho had 
previously entertained the common prcgudiee against them, 
beeame, after living with thenii their lealous advocate, not 
only in private, but before the governor and council, and 
the General Court ; and was even blamed* by some for 
taking their part so strenuously. 

S m 





Although Mr. Gookin had known* and eared for these 
Indians for twenty years, and Mr. Eliot for thirty, the word 
of these gentlemen was with diflknlty taken in fovor of any 
of them ; while the slightest thing in their dispraise, from 
any person whatever, was eagerly bcliorcd. Some went so 
&r as to count it a crime in any to say they hoped some of 
those Indians were pious persons ; — " » cruel frame of 
spirit,'' Mr. Gookin calls this. 

On the 80th of August, 1675, ihe very day of the order 
of eouncUj Captain Samuel Moscly sent down from Marl- 
borough to Boston, with a guard of soldiers, fifteen Indians, 
whom ho had found unarmed, gathering their com in a 
itmote place. These were quiet and orderly Indians, who, 
if they had been left in their village in peace, might 
have been employed as scouts and guides, and would so 
perhaps have savcwl many lives. 

The motives of the English in making tho arrests which 
followed this harsh order may well be questioned. We shall 
see in the sequel that there was an anxiety to obtain the 
lands of the Praying Indians ; — lands not only theirs by 
natural right, but secured to them by a special giimt from 


Among these Indians seised by Captain Mosely, were 
some of our acquaintance ; old Jethro, who was sent last 
year as missionary to the Nipmucks, at Wcshakim ; and 
JameSi the printer. Eleven of the number were charged 
with some concern in a murder, at Lancaster, the week 
before. The othen wero not accused or even suspected of 
any Grime. 

This Lancaster murderi as was afterwards proved, had 
rally been committed by some of Philip's Indkns, led by 
MoDOCO^ or One-eyed John, a sachem of the Nqwiuoksi who 

did a great deal of mischief during the war. The Indians 
at Marlborough, who wero perfectly innocent of the alleged 
crime, had brought all this trouble upon themselves by 
their seal for the English cause. To explain this, it will 
be necessary to go back to the time of the fight at Brook- 

An Indian named Andrew, having set out, some time 
before the war, on a distant hunting expedition, in return- 
ing, fell among Philip's men at Quaboag, and, hearing from 
them of the troubles, he was persuaded that he would be 
likely to suffer ill-treatment fixmi the English, and remained 
among the hostile Indians. As it fell out, he was found in 
the woods by his countrymen, of Marlborough, the eleven 
before mentioned, and they, according to the ordera they 
had received, brought him at once to the Englbh soldiers, 
of whom Captain Moscly was the commander. 

It seems Andrew's fother, or &ther-in-law, was taken at 
the same time ; and to examine them, as it was called, sep- 
arately, the captain tied the old man to a tree, while the 
son was sent to a little distance. The oM man said he was 
a praying Indian, but that his son had been with the Nip- 
mucks in tho late fight, and was one of those who wounded 
Captain Hutchinson. After questioning him sharply, they 
fired a gun over his head, and then untied him and sent 
him away out of sight The son was then led forward ; — 
they told him they had shot his fother, and would shoot 
him if he did not confess all he knew. Andrew declared 
that he was a Praying Indian, and that his fother had com- 
pelled him to go with the Nipmucks ; and owned that thqr 
had each fired three or four shots. The old man was now 
broof^t back ; the two tied together, and again questioned. 


' ftv 

t I 










Thej made nearly the same answen, and were both shot 
thrcnigh the heart 

This Andrew had a brother David, who, it would seem, 
was no &vorite with Captain Moeely. When the Lancaster 
orarder was made known, the cq>tain examined Darid, first 
ordering his men to bind him to a tree. In this situation, 
and with the guns of the soldiers levelled at his breast, he 
was ordered instantlj to confess, if he had been concerned, 
or if he knew any who had been concerned, in that affiiir. 
To tacBpe immediate death, perhaps also in revenge for the 
capture of his brother, he aoonsed the eleven of Marlbo- 
lOQgh ; not very strongly, however, since his words were, 
"I did not see it done, neither was I there, bat I heard 
some speak so." 

These eleven, accordingly, and ihe fimr others who hap- 
pened to be with them at the time they were seised, of 
whom David himself was one, were sent to Boston to be 

It was proved that at the time of the murder these Indi- 
ans were all at Marlborough, ten miles off) the whole Sab- 
bath day, and attended the public worship in their fort It 
was brought in evidence against them that one of them had 
bkod on his clothes when he was arrested ; — but this was 
explained by the fiict that they had been out hunting on the 
Saturday, and had killed three deer. 

After a most vexatious trial, during which David ac- 
knowledged the fidsehood of his accusations, they were 
aequitted. But the multitude raised sudi a clamor, that 
m new trial was got up, with a new jury ; and one of the 
poor fUlows was condemned to be sold into slavery. David, 
^ fidse witness, met the same fiite. 

The result was very insaiii&otory to the people of Bosloit 


Some of them thought the Indians should not have had a 
trial by jury, but should have been put to death by martial 
hw. Others could hardly extend any charity to the magis- 
trates and jurors who acquitted them. Finally, the prison- 
ers were released, sent off by night, one or two at a time 
(Mr. Oookin doubtless aiding and abetting their escape), 
first to Mr. Eliot's house, firom which they went to Natick 
as Uiey found opportunity. 

Some of the common people were so enraged, that a party 
of about forty assembled one night, and went to the bouse 
of a Captain James Oliver, whom they requested to become 
their leader in an attack on the prison, that they might take 
out the Indians and hang them. They had heard that two 
were that evening liberated (two honest and sober Chris- 
tians, says Mr. Gookin), and Uiey feared that all might 
escape. Captain Oliver heard the request of the ringleaders, 
who had come into his entry to speak to him, seised his cane 
and cudgelled them stoutly, and so dismissed that company 
for the time. 

It has been said that one of the unhappy prisoners was 
actually put to death. But Mr. Oookin makes no mention 
of this in his account of the transactions of that time, and 
we think he could scarcely have fiuled to notice it, if blood 
had really been shed. One author, however, has left a 
detaikd account of the execution, ending with the words, 
*' Thus with the dog-like death (good enough) of one poor 
heathen, was the people's rage li^ in some measure.'' 

On the 9th of September, Oneko, the eldest son of Uncas, 
came to Boston with about twenty-eij^t Mohegans, and 
made intercession, finr the Marlborough Indians. It was 
not until near the end of that month that they were set 
fines, having lain all that time in prison. It was no light 





punishiiient, to these roTen of the woods and hilb, to shot 
them up all September in a Boston prison. The arms and 
ammonition and other property of these men, which had 
been partly seised, partly surrendered, were never restored 
by the soldiers, into whose hands they had (alien, nor was 
any compensation ever made. 

It most be noticed that the hostile Indians used mudi 
craft in stirring np ill-will between the Christian Indi- 
ans and the English ; raising false reports against their 
coantrymen, and then sending them secret messages that 
the English meant to destroy them all, or to send them out 
of the country as slares. 

No stronger proof can be giren of the excited state of 
feeling that now prerailed among the whites, than the feet 
that the excellent magistrate, Mr. Gookin, as the friend of 
the Indians, became yery obnoxious to the populace, and 
was sometimes publicly insulted, so that he was afraid to 
walk in the streets. And the yenerable Eliot himself did 
not escape suspicion and dislike. On one occasion, a boat, 
in which ho was sailing, had been run down and orerset by 
a largo Tcssel ; and the 'minister was for a time in great 
danger. When the accident was mentioned in Boston, and 
Mr. Eliot^s narrow escape spoken of, one man was heard to 
declare that for his part he wished Mr. Eliot had been 

About the beginning of September the inde&tigable 
CSaptain Mosely was ordered to march into the Merrimack 
eonntry, to ascertain the state of affiiirs under Wannalanoet 
He and his men scoured the country as far as Pennakook| 
whither the sachem had remored when the first tidings of 
dM war came to his ears. 

But neither at Pennakooki nor at Amoskeag, another of 


their haunts, could an Indian be found. The soldiers came 
upon their wigwams, and these they burned ; they destroyed 
the stores of dried fish and other prorisions ; most unjustifi- 
able proceedings, but we expect no better fi-om troops com- 
manded by Captain Mosely. The prudent Wannalancet had 
withdrawn into the woods, and lay there concealed ; and so 
folly was the dying command of old Passaconaway obeyed, 
that| although the young warriors asked permission to cut 
off the company of soldiers whom they saw destroying their 
houses and goods, the chief would not permit a single gun 
to be fired. 

Governor Leverett, now fearing, with some reason, tliat 
the Pawtuckets would become unfriendly, sent a message to 
Wannalancet by some Indians from Wamesit, assuring him 
of the regard entertained for him by the English, and invit- 
ing him to return to his place of residence at Pawtucket 
Falls. He did not, however, oomply with this invitation, 
if he ever received it ; but going still fiurther into the wil- 
derness, he spent all the winter about the head of the Con- 
necticut river, where was good hunting for moose and other 
deer, for bear, &c. ; keeping out of the way both of the Eng- 
lish and of his countrymen who adhered to Philip. 

The month of September brought another mbfortune upon 
the Praying Indians. A party of soldiers, sent out into the 
Nipmuck country to lay waste the enemy's deserted corn- 
fields, though cautioned not to injure anything belonging to 
the prateeied Indians, did in feet make little distinction, and 
the poor Christians lost great quantities of com, together 
with their wigwams, mats and other property. 

Poor Indians I as Mr. Oookhi pathetically observeSi 
all do sit in darkness, and the shadow of death/' 


-0*tMjlM\ OUlTieo'idudondoM 
Anmai thdr triuMphi Md tMr wvm. 
On otbar imlnw, whoM (ou ban Mt, 
Bifcotad ndkoM liE|«n y«t ; 
Tbm, Ml* aad bud h»tf ihMl ft ll|^ 
Th«t aercr ibiJl go down in oigfat i 
Thara, tt— crowntd eolnmni ataad m hi|k. 
To l«n of tliem who ouumt die i 
Brcn WB, who Umb ««n Mtklng, IcdmI 
Is hii—ti UwN, ud Jab MTth'i fBcnl pML 

b Mn Ut own, or ntto w 
ma Ui tna bnatli. hb n 


Nor Mr pil*> Mr glowiai pap, 
BhaU link blm to • Ibtan «(•, 

Or (ira kin whh Oa pact a raak | 
Hk hmUrf li b«t a bnkM bow, 
Di kMMj taU a lala «r mtiv aai «M 

mi wr MM MHt ba ft bfawk." 


, UOUT the midJlc of Oc 
thia jnr, 1675, the petitima and complaints 
people had become so argent, that it ma co 
neoeasaiy to take aomo immediate meaaarcs for 
ing the Prating Indians from their aettlomentt 
diffioultj was hov to diapoee of them. A go 
appointed to oonaider the snbjeot, propoaed to diri 
between Cambridge, Co&oord, Dorcheatar, and Mem 
die Engliah inhabiUnts of thoae towna ntterl; re: 
admit them m reaideDla. 



; } 

• • 



» : 


• » 



It ( 


I ■ 

1 ' 






The Indiaiis themselrefl had no desire for remoYal. As 
•0011 as those at Natick heard that sach a step was contem- 
pkted, thej sent a petition through their guardian, Mr. 
John Watson, hamblj desiring the ooart not to harbor anj 
jeaknu or harsh thoughts of them, nor to hearken to anj 
fidse informations against them ; and requesting that more 
English might be sent to reside with them, as witnesses of 
their good behayior. They begged that, instead of taking 
them from their dwellings, which would bo a hardship to 
the aged and weak, especiallj as winter was approaching, 
the court would bo pleased rather to take some of their prin- 
cipal men as hostages finr their fidelity. The petition con- 
cluded with a profession of innocence and integrity, towards 
Ood and towards the English. 

Any effect which this petition might hare had was pre- 
rented by a new alarm, which arose the yery next night A 
haystack at Chelmsford was burnt by some hostile Indians, 
who used to lire about Groton, and the mischief was imme- 
diately ascribed to the Wamesits. The owner of the stack, 
who was a Mr. Richardson, a man much liked by the 
Wamesits, and always their friend, did not himself suspect 
them, but his neighbors grew terrified and unreasonable. 
They so beset the General Court with their importunities, 
that an order was passed to bring down all the Wamesits at 
onee to Boston, waAer escort of a troop of horse. '' The 
matter mig^t hare been accomplished as well by two men 
as by forty troopers," says Mr. Gookin; <<for the Indians, 
«poQ the least message of the court, would readily have 

Next day the court learned that all the Wamesit Indians 
wws on their way, » hundred and forty-fire of them, all 
Many of them were half-dad, some decrepit 



with age, scTeral young infiints, and all without supplies of 
food, having left their property behind them. This, it 
seems, was not the intention of the court, and the messen- 
ger was sent back with orders to restore all the women, 
children, and old men, to their place, and to bring the able 
men only, which was done. Thirty-three of them were 
secured for sereral days in the court-house at Charlestown, 
until the court had leisuro to examine thom. After the 
examination, three of the number, one of them a Narragan- 
set Indian, and the others not properly belonging to Wame- 
sit, were condemned to bo sold fi>r slaves and sent out of 
tho country. Eight or ten others were kept in prison, as 
not being clear from suspicion. Tho rest, about twenty in 
all, were sent back to their wives and children at Wamesit, 
under the guard of a lieutenant and a file of soldiers. 

They marched through the village of Wobum while the 
train-hDind of that place was exercising. Tho Indians and 
their escort halted, and tho lieutenant approached and 
showed his commission to conduct tho Indians safely to their 
homes, llio captain and ofiicers of the train-band gave or- 
ders to their soldiers not to fire a gun till all the Indians 
were quito past But, notwithstanding these orders, one 
young fellow discharged his musket, and killed an Indian, a 
stout young man connected with the principal families of 
Natick and Wamesit 

Knight, the murderer, was apprehended, committed to 
prison, tried for his life, and acquitted; his defence being 
that the gun went off Jl>y accident The judges were greatly 
dissatisfied with the jury, and sent Uiem out again and 
again, but they persisted in their verdict 

A week hter, Uiere was a fire at Dedham; nothing was 
burned but an old bam| not worth ten shillings. One histo- 





rian states, in plain terms, that it was purposely set on fire 
by some malicious persons among the English, in order to 
throw the odium upon ''the poor, innocent Christians.'' 
The plan succeeded. The cruel order was passed by the 
General Court that the Naticks should be forthwith removed 
to Deer Island, in Boston harbor. The remoral itself does 
not appear to hare been attended with any unnecessary se- 
verity. Captain Thomas Prentiss, a person friendly to the 
Indians, was sent with a party of horse to bring them down 
to the place where they were to embark. He took with 
him a few men, and five or six carts, to carry away such 
articles as were indispensable. 

When Captain Prentiss arrived at Natick, and told them 
the pleasure of the court, they quietly submitted, made 
their few preparations, and in an hour or two were ready to 
accompany him ; all but old Jethro and his family. He, 
it seems, had had sufficient experience of the hospitalities 
of the General Court, in his recent residence in the Boston 
prison, and was not inclined to accept their present invita- 
tion. He, and his sons, and their kindred, about twelve in 
all, made their escape by night into the wilderness. 

The rest, about two hundred men, women, and children, 
left their Phu» of Hills, and their houses, and the foot- 
bridge they had built, and their meeting-house, with all its 
assodations, and took their melancholy way to the place to 
which they had been ordered. This was on Charles River, 
two miles above Cambridge, at a spot called *< The Pines^'^ 
not hr from the prasent site of the United States Arsenal, 
m Watertown. 

Mr. Eliot met them at the Pines, and comfinrted them, 
and prayed with them, and exhorted them to patience in 
tfmr sdbringk Ho had xset soflia iC ^ aano company, 

on another October afternoon, twenty-nine years ago. Piam* 
bouhon is here, and Waban. They are old men now ; Mr. 
Eliot and Waban are both more than seventy. Very sorrowful 
are the Indians, and, as for their minister, it is not difficult 
to imagine his feelings of disappdntment and compassion, 
and unavailing regret, and holy submission. 

There were some other Englishmen with Mr. Eliot, — 
Mr. Oookin was one, — and all were much affected at the 
submissive demeanor of the afflicted Indians, who spent their 
time in prayers and tears, until the hour of embarking. 
Many of them believed that they were about to be trans- 
ported out of the country, and that this was a final fiuvwell 
to their homes. This had been the fate of some of their 
acquaintances, why should it not be theirs ? 

I think, if I were a skilful painter, I would make a pic- 
ture of this scene, and phoe it in the State House in Bos- 
ton. In the foreground should be Mr. Eliot's venerable 
figure, not yet much bent by age ; around him the disci- 
ples who have been torn from their homes. He is bidding 
them be of good cheer ; there are better homes on Surer 
hills than this earth affords, and a city where no fear, nor 
cruelty bom of fear, can enter. Mr. Gookin stands near, 
with kind, grave countenance. Some of the younger Indi- 
ans are busy with Captain Prentiss' men in arranging the 
things they have brought The women sit listless on the 
ground. Some of them have sleeping infants. A few boys 
look unconcerned and merry. On the right the horses are 
picketed among the deep-shadowing trees that give the spot 
its name. On the left we see the river, and the waiting 
boats; over all the autumn sky. 

About midnight, the tide serving, and all being ready, 
the two hundred were embarked and carried down the river, 



•nd to an island in the harbor, about four leagaes distant, 
whither we shall not now accompany them. 

In these months of September and October the enemy. 
was doing great mischief at Northfield, Deerfield, Spring- 
field, and other places on the Connecticnt It was the 
period of Philip^s greatest success. The whole Nipmuck 
countrj was engaged in his interest, and every week brought 
intelligence of some fresh disaster to the English settlements. 
Gaptain Mosely and other conmianders were kept busy 
enough. Thb Capt Mosely, we may say here, had been a 
prifateer m the West Indies. An old historian calls him 
** an excellent soldier, and an undaunted spirit ; one whose 
memory will be honmible in New England for his many 
eminent senrices he hath done the public." 

He was a brave man. At the memorable fight of Bloody 
Brook, in Deerfield, which took place on the 18th of Sep- 
tember, 1675, with seventy men, he boldly charged a body 
of Indians a tliousand strong. The Indians dared him to 
begin the fight, calling out to him, " Come, Mosely, come; 
you seek Indians, you want Indians; here is Indians enough 


The Indians used sometimes to speak of Capt Mosely as 
the man with two heads. It seems he wore a wig, — not a 
very common thing in those days, — which it was his custom 
to hang upon a bush when he was about to engage the ene- 
my, '* while he still wore his head upon his shoulders, and 
did great exploits upon them." 

And now for the history of Job Eattenanit and James 
Quanapohit James was the brother of the old man whe 
lost his hand in the Mount Hope expedition. Job had been, 
befim the war, a teacher at Magunkook, where he was at 
«Im time of Mr. Eliot's journey with Mr. Gookin in 1674, 



and was well esteemed fi>r piety and ability. After the 
troubles began, the settlement at Magunkook was relin- 
quished, and Job and his people lived at Hossanarocsit 

About the beginning of November, these two came to the 
English at Mendon, and reported that some of Philip's men 
had made a descent upon Hassanamesit, and had carried oif 
the Christian Indians, who were all employed in gathering 
and housing their crop of com. James and Job, with some 
squaws and children, chancing to be at a little distance from 
the rest, got away. They were unable to tell the number 
of the enemy, or the direction in which they had gone. 
The people taken away were fifty men, for the most part 
unarmed, and a hundred and fifty women and children. It 
was afterwards ascertained that the hostile Indians were a 
force of three hundred men, all well armed. They told the 
Hassanaroesits, some of whom were tlieir kindred, that if 
they would go quietly, they should not be hurt; if they 
refSosed, all their com should be taken from them, and then 
they would perish of hunger. 

Said the war party, *' If we do not kill you, and you go 
to the English again, they will force you all to some island, 
as they have just done to the Naticks, where you will suffer 
with cold and hunger, and perhaps, in the end, you will all 
be sent out of the country for slaves." 

It is not surprising that these arguments succeeded with 
many. Among those who listened to them were the eleven 
so long imprisoned at Boston, about that Lancaster murder, 
the August before. These men, who knew themselves inno- 
cent in that affiiir, and still smarted under a sense of the 
usage they had received, thought going off with their coun- 
trymen preferable to the risk of starvatkm and Deer Island. 
Perhaps, as Mr. Oookin says, if Englishmen, and good 




too, had been in Uieir case, and under like 
temptation, they might bare dcme the same. 

The chief person thus aedaced away, waa Capt Tom 
himself, the mler of the Praying Indians in the whole dis- 
trict, and the assistant of Mr. (Jookin, who had a particular 
acquaintance with him, and could not think otherwise of 
him than as a prudent and pious man, though possibly in 
this act tempted beyond his strength ; <' for, had he done 
as he ought, he should rather hare suflfered death, than 
hare gone among the wicked enemies of the people of 

Those Indians whom King Philip's men could not per« 
Buade to go with them, they carried off by force ; of this 
number were Tukapewillin, the pastor of the congregation 
at Uassanamesit, and his aged father. Deacon Naoas. 

This aflSiir was in erery point of view a great calamity ; 
the people carried away were considerable for number, being 
the greater part of three villages, Ilassanaroesit, Magun- 
kook and Ghobonekonhonom (Dudley), and their loss weak- 
ened the English frontier.. Of the poor Indians tbemselres, 
many lost their lives by war, sickness and famine ; some 
were afterwards executed by the English. Great scandal 
was brought on their religious profession. '' Yet through 
God's fiivor," says the old chronicler, ''some of them were 
preserved alive, mnd again reconciled to tho English, espe- 
cially those who mourned and lamented when carried away. 
The Lord spared the lives of these, and brought them back 
to the enjoyment of sanctuary mercies." 

It shouhl be noticed, that those who fell off to Philip's 
par^ were almost wholly from the new praying towns, 
whioh had received less instruction in- Christianity ; and 



that the old settlements for the most part remained tiue to 
the English interest. 

Immediately on receipt of the . intelligence brought by 
James and Job, Captain Uenchman and Captain Syll, with 
two English companies, and five Indian guides, marched to 
Hassanamesit They found signs of the enemy, but could 
not discover any considerable body of them. Early, how- 
ever, on tho morning of November 6th, Captain Syll, hear- 
ing a noise, sent out two files of men, with James Quana- 
pohit and Pequan. They had not gone fiur, when they 
discovered seven of tho enemy, one of whom was leading 
along an English youth. The hostile Indians fled ; James 
and Pequan pursued, and, by their courage and activity, 
succeeded in rescuing tho English prisoner, whom they 
brought in to the captain. This Lid said ho had been seized 
the day before at a mill in Marlborough, where, at the same 
time, the seven Indians had kille4 and scalped a younger 
boy, his companion. 

After thb, Captain Henchman marched from Ilassa- 
namesit in a north-west direction, ten miles to Pakachoog 
(Worcester). But though he discovered, by many traces, 
that the Indians had lately been there, he could not meet 
with any of them. The weather was wet and stormy, and 
the soldiers sheltered themselves as they could in two wig- 
wams which were standing there. Next morning diligent 
search was made about the cornfields. There was a great 
quantity of standing com, and a hundred bushels were 
fimnd newly gathered; but, though probably the hostile 
Indians were lurking near enough to see all the motions of 
the English, not one was visible. 

About ten o'clock, word was given to march back to 
Hassanamesit When they had gone about two miles the 



eapttin miased his letter-case, containing his orders and other 
important papers, and sent back tiro men with old Thomas 
Qnanapohit, to look for it in the wigwam where he had 
slept They had come within a few rods of the wigwam, 
when they snddenlj discovered that it was occupied by the 
enemy; four Indians sitting by the fire, and two others 
standing at the door, who at the same moment became 
aware of their approach. Thomas, with great presence of 
mind, instantly turned round, and began to beckon and call 
earnestly, as if many men were behind, coming up the hill, 
whom he would hasten forward to surround the wigwam. 
One of the six presented his gun, which missed fire, and all 
the rest came out and ran away, supposing, from Quanapo- 
hiVs stratagem, that the English force was at hand. Thomas 
and his comrades, having thus scared away the enemy for 
the present, thought it wisest to ride back to their company 
as fiwt as they could. An^, indeed, they were not very 
well appointed tor combat Quanapohit, himself*, with his 
one hand, had only a pistol ; one of the Englishmen had a 
gun without any flint, and the other no gun at all. 

The captain, meanwhile, had found his letter-case, and 
was waiting for his messengers, whom he would never 
have seen agpun, but for the courage and quickness of 

Three, then, of the guides attached to this expedition, 
have given signal proof of their fidelity. Yet some of the 
inferior officers and soldiers were so infected with a spirit 
of enmity and suspicion towards all Indians, that they mur- 
mured against these, '' their guides and keepers ;'' and to 
satisfy them, Gaptain Syll sent home three of the five he 
had taken, retaining only the two Quanapohits. After- 
waidsi when the iw« captains had separated their conn 





mands, Gaptain Henchman was without any Indian guide, 
and in an attack, made under his orders one night, on about 
fi>rty Indians in a wigwam at Hassanamesit, he lost his 
lieutenant and another man, whose heads the enemy cut 
oH^ and placed on a crotched pole at the wigwam door. 

The preacher. Job Eattenanit, one of the two men who 
escaped from the descent upon Hassanamesit, had three 
children carried away that day by the enemy. On the 
18th of November, he came to Mr. Gookin, and requested 
of him a pass, that he might go into the woods to look for 
his children. His wife, he said, was dead, and he loved his 
children, and would willingly risk his life to recover them. 
He thought, too, he might perhaps be useful in gaining intel- 
ligence of the enemy's movements. Ifr. Gookin accordingly 
wrote a pass in these words ; 

" These may certify, that the bearer hereof, Job of Ma- 
gunkog, is a trusty Indian, and, therefi>re, if any English 
meet him, it is desired they will not misuse him, but secure 
him, and convey him to the governor or myself and they 
shall be satisfied for their pains." 

It most unfortunately proved, that this pass, instead of 
asusting Job*s search, served only to prevent it, and was 
the cause of a great misfortune to him. 

At his first going out, he met with some of Gaptain 
Henchman's scouts, not fiur firom Hassanamesit, firom whom 
he might easily have concealed himself, as he saw them 
before he was himself discovered. Fearing nothing, how- 
ever, finom the English, since he was armed with an Eng- 
lish pass, he stood in open view^ until they rode up. Some 
said, '' Let us kill him." Others said, *' He is but one man, 
kt us not kill him, but take him to the captain to be ez* 





! I 






r \ 






P .1 


They seiied him aooordinglj, disannod him, took away 
his clothes and his gan (whidi were never restored), and 
carried him off to their captain. The poor fellow told his 
whole storj in very good English, and showed his certifi- 
cate. Ci^^tain Henchman, however, not clearly under* 
standing its intention, sent him np to Boston, and the 
governor, to satisfy the chimors of the people, committed 
him to the common jail. Ilere he lay three weeks, with 
many other Indians, crowded into a narrow and filthy 
place. At the end of that time, when the excitement sab- 
sided, he was released from prison, and sent to Deer Island 
to join his soflfering countrymen there. This man, who had 
assuredly committed no offence, the people would have had 
put to death. They railed against Mr. Qookin for giving 
him the pass, declaring that he had sent out Job to furnish 
intelligence to the enemy. 

The Wamesits had their full share of injustice and suf- 
fining. They were living under the care of Lieutenant 
Richardson, and Lieutenant Ilenchman, of Chelmsford, 
when, about the 15th of November, a bam belonging (o 
the former gentleman, and containing com and hay, was 
burned. The mischief was really committed by some of 
the war party, but the more violent of the English imputed 
It to the Wamesits, as they had bcfi>re done the burning 
of the same Mr. Richardson's haystack, a fortnight pre- 

On this second occasion, about fi>urteen men armed them- 
selves and, going out under pretence of searching the woods 
fiNT the enemy, went to the wigwams of the Wamesits, and 
called to than to come out They readily complied, not 
iuq^ecting that any harm could be intended them, and had 
w sooMT shown themselvesi than the English &ped upon 



them. Five women and one child were wounded ; and one 
lad was killed, a boy of about twelve years old. His mother, 
who was in tiie number of the wounded, was Sarah, the 
widow of Oonamog, and daughter of a Sagamore who had 
in his life been a good firiend to the English. The poor 
boy who was killed was the son of her first marriage, with 
John Tahattawan, and therefore a grandson of the distin- 
guished sachem of Concord. 

It is something, to know that this outrage displeased all 
wise and pmdent men, especially the magistrates and min- 
isters of the colony. The murderers were apprehended and 
tried (or their lives, but acquitted by the jury, for want of 
evidence as it was said ; though ''some feared it was rather 
a mist of temptation, and prejudice against those poor Indi- 
ans, that darkened their way.*' 

This act of wanton craelty so alarmed the Wamesits, that 
their ruler, Numphow, his son Samuel, their teacher, and 
most of the others, fled away firom their homes into the 
woods, carrying little or nothing with them. As soon as 
the council received information of their flight, orders were 
despatched to Lieutenant Henchman to send after them, and 
persuade them to return. But their terror was too strong, 
and they sent back this letter : 

" I, Numphow, and John a Line, we send the messenger 
to you again, with this answer ; — we cannot come home 
Agun ; we go towards the French ; wo go where Wannik 
lancet is. 

'' The reason is we went away fimn our home, we had 
help firom the council, but that did not do us good, but we 
had wrong by the English. 

'' Secondly, the reason is we went away firom the Eng- 
lish| fiMT when there was any harm done in Chehnsfinrd, they 


• • 



it to 08, and said we did it; bat we know oaraelyes, we 
nerer did any harm to the English ; bat we go away peace- 
Mj and qaietl j. 

'^Thirdly, as for the island, we say there is no safety for 
osy becaose many English be not good, and may be they 
eome to as and kill as, as in the other case. Wo are not 
sorry for what we leaTe behind, bat we are sony the Eng- 
lish hsTO driven as from oar praying to God, and from oar 
teadier. We did begin to anderstand a little of praying 

" We thank hambly the ooancil. We remember oar lore 
to Mr. Henchman and James 

" The mark L of John Lyne. 
"The mark 3:::::^ of Namphow." 

After wandering aboat, for three dismal weeks of an onu- 
saally cold and sharp season, almost withoat food, most of 
these poor Wamesits came back to their wigwams. Idea« 
tenant Henchman informed the council of their retam, and 
Mr. Eliot, Mr. Gookin and Major Willard, of Concord, 
were appointed a committee to ride ap to Chelmsford, to 
encoarage and soothe them. They were also to go to C(m« 
cord, to qaiet the minds of the English there, with regard 
to the Nashobah Indians now liring near them. 

On the 18th December, the committee took this joamey, 
and settled the matter satis&ctorily. They also sent oat 
some of the retamed Wamesits to bring in eighteen others, 
who had been afraid to come bade, and had staid aboat 
Pennakoek. . Among these was Sarah, the poor wounded 
widow, whose boy was killed by the Chelmsford men. 

Symon Betokom, one of the Wamesit Indians, was asked 
what they did in their three weeks' absenoe. 



"We kept three Sabbaths in the woods," said he. ^The 
first SabbaUi, I read and taaght the people oat of Psalm 
25 ; tlie second Sabbath, from Psalm 46 ; the thiid, from 
the 118th." 

These passages were well chosen to support them ander 
all their safferingg. << Plead my cause, O Lord, with 
them thai strive with me. Lard, w/to is like unto tliee, 
which ddiverest tlie poor from him that is too strotig 
for him, yea, the poor and fieedyfrom him that spoHeth 
him ? " How suitable to their case are such expressions as 
this ! '' False witnesses did rise up ; they laid to my 
charge things t/tat I knew not. T/iey rewarded me evil 
for good, to the spoiling of my souV^ And, again : 
'' They speak not peace, but they devise deceitful mat- 
ters against them that are quiet in t/te landJ^ And they 
had need to strengthen their hearts with the remembrance 
that "Me Lord is good; for his mercy endureth for- 
ever. God is our refuge and strength, a very present 
hdp in trouble:' Whatever they left behind, they carried 
Bibles into the woods with them. 


Hour, Father, bear Ugr fiiint, alBieted floek 
C17 to q^ from Om dewrt ud tbe radc" 

The Christian Indians at Concord were phiced under 
the inspectimi and government of Mr. John Hoare. They 
had come in from Nashobah, and had pitched their wig- 
wams on his land, very near his house. Bfr. Hoaie was 
very diligent and careful to promote their good, and to 
secure the English from any fisar or injury fitwi tl^m. 

Mr. Eliot and Mr. Gookin, towards the end of this year, 
often visited the poor Christians on Deer Ishmd, who were 


' 1 



I ■ 

■ I 






i III' 

■• ' I 




i »i 









now as many as five hundred souls. The settlers at Pun* 
kapoag had been brought here upon as slight cause as the 
Nalicks. It ayailed them little tliat thej had shown great 
aeal for the English in giving information, and sending in 
prisoners. The English feared them, and they were ordered 
to leave their homes. 

The sufferings of all these on the island can hardly be 
overstated. The council had, indeed, appointed a person 
to take some charge of them, and com was from time to 
time brought from their own plantations, and conveyed to 
them by little and little. But this was a scanty supply, 
and they lived chiefly on clams and other shell fish, which 
they digged out of the sand at low water. The island was 
bleak and cold ; their wigwams poor and mean, and their 
clothing insufficient Yet it was noticed, that, amid all 
their sufierings, they carried themselves patiently, humbly 
and piously, without complaint against the English. Mr. 
Qookin thought he might say, in truth, there qipeared 
among them much practical Christianity, in this time of 
their trials. 


** Our fertren b the good greeawood. 
Our tnt the c/prew lioo ; ^ 
Wo know tbo ferest romid no. 
As oeuDon know tiio na. 
■ Wo know itf walls oC thorqjr TiMSi 
Itf glftdcf of reodj graat, 
lU nft Mid sOoBt klMidt 
WHkia tkt dark 

«• Woo to tho Engliih aoldkiy. 
That Uttlo dnid vs Bour I 
Ob tkm thiOl light al midnight. 



WhoB waUng to thoir teato ob kt% 

Thcgr gnwp their anas in Taia^ 
And thogr who oUad to &oo as 

Aro boat to oarth agaia ; 
Aad thogr who Sj ia torror deeai 

A Bdghty hoot bohiad, 
Aad hoar tho tramp of th oBo oad i 

UpoB tho holkw wiad." 




■ lilLE Bomo of tlic later evonto 
recoiled in our last chapter wore 
taking place, Philip disappeared 
(ma the Nipmvck country, and was next Iteard of among 
the Narra^DHts. It was decided hj the English to make 
ft great eJI^ against him during the winter, and an army 
of fifkeen haikk«d men was raised by the three colonies, 
Haiaaohiuetti, Plymovth, and Connecticnt 

Philip, on hii ^e, had fortified himself upon an bland 
m an JmntwifH awamp, within the present limits of South 


EinnstOD, Rhode Island. Here occurred, on the memorablo 
19th (^ December, 1675, the desperate conflict between the. 
two races, bmiliarly known as " The Great Swamp Fight" 
On the particulars oT this dreadful day it is not within the 
provinoo of our story to dwell. It is enough for oar present 
purpose to state that the defeat of Philip and his allies was 
utter and Jrrctrie\*able. The sachem, with many of his fol- 
lowers, soon after left that part of the country, and wan- 
dered about in rarious ploocs upon the Ccmnectiout river. 
In the course of the winter bs is said to hare visited tlio 
Mohawks (Maquaa) in New York, to solicit their aid against 
the English. The means ho adopted to promote this object 
were desperate and cruel enough. IIo killed some of the 
M<^wks in the woods, intending to make it appear the act 
of the English, and to direct against them the vengeance of 
tbo tribo. But, unfortunately for hie purpose, one of the 
men, whom he thought dead, was only stunned, and the real 
murderer wis thus diacorored. Philip, having now awak- 
ened against himself the unrelenting hatred of the Mohawks, 
was obliged hastily to flee. 

Meantime, the council at Beaton, desirous to loam tbo 
state of the enemy, empowered Mr. Gookin to select two 
Indians from Deer Island to procure intolligonoo. Mr. 
Gookin went to tbo isbmd, and conversed with two or three 
of the prindpol men about tbo plan. It was approved by 
them, and Jeb Kattanonit and James Quanapohit were 
ohoscn. Their reward was to be five ponnds apiece. Tbcy 
seemed fully sensible of the difficulty and danger of tbo un- 
dertaking, but asid, by God's sssistance, thoy would wil- 
lingly adventure their lives in this servioe. 

Going to Mr. Gookin's house privately by night, (bey 
wsre kept there in secret, until evarything was ready fitr 


.— Ji 




?i i 

h ■ . 
■ I 

P I 


their journej, and tbey had reoei?ed their instmotioiis. 
Befim daybreak, on the morning of the 80th of Deeember, 
Mr. Gookin aent an Englishman with them as fiur as the 
fiOb of the Charles river, and they went on their joomey 
vndifloovered. Nothing was heard of them for three weeks. 
At the end of that time James made his appearanee at the 
house of Isaac Williams, an English settler, near the Falb. 
The poor spy was very £unt and weary, having travelled 
near eighty miles throogh deep snow. He was kindly re- 
eeived by Williams, and, after a night's rest, was oonducted 
by him to the house of Mr. Gookin. Next day he appeared 
before the governor and council, and made his report 

He had first fidlen in with the enemy at a place about 
thirty miles fitmi Lancaster. Here the Nipmucks had 
their quarters, and here were detained most of the Praying 
Indians who had been carried away from Hassanamesit In 
answer to the close questioning of the hostile chieb, James 
and Job stated that Uiey were of the poor Naticks confined 
on Deer Island, where they had lived this winter in great 
suflbring, often wanting food, and almost destitute of fires. 
They had come away in the night, and were in search of 
their friends who had lived at Hassanamesit Job had sev- 
eral children and some other kindred among these, and this 
circumstance rendered the story the more plausible. It 
was their wish, they said, to ascertain the strength and 
positkm of their countrymen who were hostile to the Eng- 
lish, in order the better to advise their friends at Deer 
Idttid, and elsewhere. 

All this savors rather of Indian craft than of Christian 
rimplicity, but seems to have been approved in those times 
as a laudable stratagem. The account was lUeralfy true, 
and iesaiy for the most part, to have lulled suqnoioii, so 



Aat they gained opportunity to inform themselves of the 
aSurs and designs of the enemy. 

The Nipmucks and Quaboagi assembled here were about 
three hundred in number. They had provisions of beef, 
pork and venison, in plenty; not so much com, though 
before winter set in they had brought a considerable quan- 
tity from the deserted plantations. They expected a supply 
of arms and ammunition fix>m the French. It was Philip^s 
design to carry on hostilities vigorously in the spring; he 
was supposed to be now at Fort Albany. The old men 
were weary of the war, but the younger warriors all eager 
for its continuance. In three weeks they intended to fall 
upon Lancaster, and afterwards to attack in succession the 
oUier fimitier towns. 

Borne of the Indians suspected the true nature of the 
orrand on which James and Job had come, especially cer- 
tain Narragansets, who had seen James with the English 
in the Mount Hope expedition. He, at least, would have 
been put to death, but for the kindness of Monoco, One- 
eyed John. They had served together in the former wars 
against the Maquas, and the chief did not now forget his 
old friend and fellow-soldier. He took him into his own 
wigwam, and, loading his gun, declared he would kill any 
man who should do any harm to Quanapohit 

Tukapewillin, the pastor of Hassanamesit, who was now 
kept here ag^nst his will, told James privately, that Philip 
had given orders that certain IVaying Indians should be 
sought after, and, if found, should be seised and brought to 
him, that he mi|^t put than to death. Among these, James 
and hit brother, Thomas Quanapohit, had been mentiooed 

James* position was certainly a critioal one, and he could 



i i 


BO longer think himself eifey eren under the protection of 
MoDOOo. Jnst at this time arrired Hatoonas with a train 
of followen, and a dance was got np in his honor. James 
and Job painted their fiu^es like the others, and joined in 
the danoci which lasted two or throe nights. When the 
rerd was over, Mautamp, the Qnaboag sachem, proposed to 
▼isit Philip, and to take James with him to communicate 
the state of aflUrs in Boston, and any other intelligence of 
which he was possessed. This was not at all Qoanapohit's 
wish, and he sought some pretext bj which he might evade 
the visit, without increasing the suspicions of Mautamp. 
Philip, he said, knew him, having seen him when he fought 
finr the English at Mount Hope. It would not be safe (or 
him to make his appearance before the sachem, until he had 
perfixrmed some signal exploit in his service. He therefore 
proposed that he should first kill some English, and carrj 
their heads with him. This seemed to satisfj Mautamp finr 
the time. 

James next communicated to Job the necessity he was in 
of making his escape arsoon as possible, and urged him to 
do the same; but Job, being in no immediate danger, pre- 
ferred to remain, in the hope of gaining more intelligence. 
He was also bent on bringing off Us children, and would not 
relinquish that design without further eflRnrt James tried 
every means to persuade him to accompany his flight 

*' After I am gone," said he, "I fear the Indians will 
Vnow us to be spies, and will kiU you." 

Job, however, was resolved to stay for his diildren*s re- 
lease, and to contrive a way of escape for other Christian 
^Indiana "that fenged for deliverance.'' If his life were 
preserved, be hoped to foUow in about three weeks. 

On pieteooe of hunting, the two went out tc^getheri and 



soon killed three deer. Perceiving Aat they were dogged 
by some other Indians, they w^t over apond into aswamp, 
where they hid themselves for the night At three o*clock 
in the morning, they prayed together and parted. One set 
out on his kmg, cold journey i and the other went back to 
his more dangerous tasL 

It was only a fortm'ght after James' return, when Job 
camoi hte at night, to Mr. Gookin's house at 
with the intelligence that Lancaster was to be 
nextday. Four hundred men were ahneady on their mareh; 
the Karraguiscts had joined Philip and the Nipmucks,.and 
the enemy wouU shortly attack MedfieU, Groton, Marl- 
borough, and other places. Mr. Oookin instantly sent off 
ex{»icsses to Lancaster, Marlbmmj^ and Concord; but his 
warning came too late. Lancaster was burnt on the 10th, 
and the inhabitants were carried into captivity. 

Before Job left the ^emy, he had planned the esc^M of 
his children, and of the Hassanamesits, and had agreed with 
them upon a time when he should meet them in the woods, 
and conduct them to the English. Tukspewillin, and his 
sged fether, Naoas, with their wives and childien, were of 
the number. Job petitioned the ooundl for leave to keep 
his appointment^ and obtained it^ but meantime both he and 
James were sent to Deer Island again. Althou^ they had 
acquitted themselves so well, and had performed their aer- 
vice to the entire satis&ction of the authoritiea, the popular 
clamor was against them. Thej were upbraided with bring, 
ing felse information, with having a secret understanding 
with the enemy, who would otherwise never have aufimd 
them to return m safety; ** which abowa the rude temper 
of those times," says Mr. Oookin. 

While Job, stiU retained « his Uaad-pmoiL is under- 




going fresh privatioiis, and bitterlj grieving finr the roftr- 
ings to which his children and his friends maj be expoeedi 
from his not keeping his i^pointment, new persecutions 
arise ebewhere. The Wamesits, again threatened bj some 
of their English neighbors, ran awaj towards Pennakook ; 
all but six or seren aged persons, too infirm to go. Some 
of the English not kng after set fire to their wigwams, and 
burnt them all to death. This fiu^ when heard of, says 
Mr. Gookin, " was deservcdij abhorred hy all sober per- 



And it seems to me almost the worst thing recorded of 
those " rude times." Some of the unjust and false accusa- 
tions against the Indians maj be explained on the ground 
of mistake. As their wise superintendent remarks, '< It is 
very difficult, unless upon long knowledge, to distinguish 
Indians from one another ; " but neither error nor fear can 
be pleaded, in excuse for the burning to death of six old 
pec^le, helpless, blind, and lame. 

Of the Wamesits who had gone off, many died, among 
whom were their teacher, and their ruler, Numphow. The 
others joined Wannalancet and kept out of the way till the 
end of the war. 

Medfield was burnt on the 21st of this month, February. 
There was great excitement at Boston, when the news came 
of this fresh calamity, so soon after the burning of Lancas- 
ter, and many proposed to go at once to Deer Island, to kill 
all the Indians thm, but were restrained by the authorities 
from 80 wicked an action. 

- About this time the Nashobah Indians fell into trouUe. 
They had for some time been living at Conoofd, under Mr. 
HoaiB*s superintendenee. There were only fifty-eij^t in 
an, bat twelve of whom were moDi unarmed, and veiy 




sober, quiet and industrious. Mr. Iloare had built a large 
work-house for them near his own dwelling. Ilere they 
worked by day, and were secured under lock and key by 
night Some of the Concord people, however, who shared 
the prevailing feeling against all Indians, sent privately to 
Captain Mosely, to come and take them away. 

The captain accordingly came, and, as it was Sunday, 
went with his soldiers into the meeting-house, where the 
people were assembled. When service was over, ho stated 
to the congregation, that he understood tlicrc wore some 
heathen in the town, committed to one Iloare, who were, he 
was informed, a trouble and disquiet to the inhabitants; and 
therefore, if they desired it, he was ready to remove these 
Indians to Boston. Most of the people were silent ; and, 
taking this silence for approbation, as soon as the assembly 
was dismissed, Captain Mosely went with his men, a hun- 
dred or two of the town's people following, to Mr. Uoare's 
house, and demanded to see the Indians. Their guardian 
opened the door, and showed them all there safe. Mosely 
said he would leave a corporal and guard to secure them. 
Mr. Iloare assured him there was no need of that, they 
were already secure, and he would be answerable for them. 
The corporal and soldiers, were left, however, and disturbed 
the Indians greatly by their abusive language. 

The next morning, Captain Mosely came to take the In- 
in order to send them to Boston. Mr. Iloare refused 
to deliver them, except by order of the council To this 
the captain replied, that he had a commission to kill and 
destroy. Mr. Hoare argued that these were friends, and 
under lawful guardianship; but the arbitrary Mosely broke 
open the door, and took the Indians all away. On their 
joumqr to Boston, the English soldiers plundered the pocnr 


€ieatiii«8 of tbeir diirts, alioeSi dishes, and mich (^ 
as they could Uj their hands on, although the captain, to 
do him justice, had given strict orders that their property 
shoaM not be molested. Thb act of Moseljr's was very 
oiensiTe to the governor and cooncil, but met with no re- 
buke from the General Court. The poor Indians were 
ordered to Deer Island, to pass into the furnace of affliction 
with their brethren and countrymen there. As all their 
com and other provisions, enough to maintain them for six 
months, had been lost at .Concord, these poor Christians of 
Nashobah were obliged to live upon clams, as the others 
did, with some small allowance of com, furnished at the 
expense of the corporation in London. 

There was much debate in the General Court, at this 
period, with regard to the Deer Island Indians. Some 
were for having them all destroyed ; others urged the send- 
ing them out of the country. The more moderate party 
refinrred to the covenant which had been entered into thirty 
years before, and inquired if the Indians had not fiiithfully 
adhered to it The records were searched, and the agree- 
ment made, in 1644, with Cutshamakin, the Squaw-sachem 
and others, was produced and read. The arguments of the 
moderate men finally prevailed, and the Indians were left 
on their island-prison undisturbed. The popular feeling, 
however, ran strongly agamst Mr. Gookin mi a few others. 
Placards were posted in Boston, with the names of the 
obnoxious individuals, and the words, ''Some generous 
qiirita have vowed their destruction. As Christians, we 
warn then to prepare for death, for though they will 
deservedly die, jvl we wish the health of their souls.'' 

A vote was p asse d in the General Court of Ma ssach u se t ts, 
U turn an army of six hundred men, and Migor Savage 



was i^pointed commander-in-chief. lie rcfusod, unless he 
could have some of the island Indians for assistants. A 
messenger was sent to thom, and six brave men volunteered, 
willing and joyful to serve the English, and to bo employed 
by Savage, under whose command some of them had been 
at Mount Hope. These six were of the principal men on 
the island ; James and Job were among them. 

They marched fint to Marlborough, and here Job ob- 
tained the permission of his commanden to leave the army, 
and seek for his friends at the place he had appointed them, 
twelve miles from Marlborough. If he succeeded in his 
search, he was to bring in his children to die rendezvous of 
the army at Quaboag. When this came to Captain Mosely*s 
knowledge, not long after Job was gone, he made no small 
disturbance. It was impossible for this man to trust any 
Indian whatever. Job, he declared, would inform the ene- 
my of the movements of tlie army, and the whole design 
would be frustrated. So great was his influence among the 
soldiers, that, to quiet them, the superior officen thought it 
necessary to send out two captains with James Qoanapohit, 
to follow Job with all speed, and bring him back. They 
did not overtake him, however ; but the fiiithful guide soon 
rotumed alone. 

nis poor children and friends had succeeded in making 
their escape to the place where he had promised to meet 
them, and had lingered there as long as they dared, and 
long after the appointed time had expired. Wandering 
about in terror and great suffering, they fell at length into 
the hands of an English party of horsemen, under Captain 
Gibbs, from whom they received most orael treatment The 
soldiera stripped them of the few possessions the hostile In- 
dians had left them, and took away what they valued most, 












and most griered fi>r, a pewter cap, which they were wont 
to nee at the administratum of the sacrament of the Lord's 
sopper. Mr. Eliot had giren it to the pastor, Takape- 
willin, for that purpose, and thej had preserved it with 
religions care, through all their captivitj among the 

When these poor Indians were brought in to the com- 
mander, Savage, and he found them to be the children and 
friends of his trustj Job, he treated them with the greatest 
kindness, and sent them with a guard to Marlborough, on 
their waj to Boston. 

But not yet were their troubles over. While they waited 
here for an opportunity to go on, some of the people of the 
town came to their quarters, and so insulted, taunted and 
threatened these unhappy Christians, that four of them, in 
terror for their lives, fled away into the woods. Among 
them were the wife and eldest son of Tukapewillin. The 
poor minister was left, with his father, now eighty years 
oU, and with a helpless in&nt of a few months. 

Captain Brattle, who. was then stationed in Marlborough, 
declared he was ashamed, at what he saw and heard in his 
countrymen ; and if he had been an Indian, and had been 
abused as they were, he should certainly have run away as 
they did. 

At last the unfortunate company was sent on to Boston. 
Captain Nicholas Page and his wifo (the name of these 
compassionate Christians is worthy of honorable remem- 
brance), pitied the* Indian pastor, and took him into their 
boose,— Tukapewillin and his poor old fitther, and the little 
ebild, — and comforted them, and fed the baby with milL 
Mr. Eliot came to see them here, and Mr. Gookin. 

** 0, sir," said Tukapewillin to the former, <<I am greatly 



distressed, this day, on every side. The English have taken 
away some of my estate, my com, my cattle, my plough, 
cart and chain, and other goods ; the enemy Indians have 
also taken part of what I had, and wicked Indians mock 
and scoff at me, saying, ' Now, wliat is become of your 
praying to God V The English, also, censure me, and say 
I am a hypocrite. In this distress, I have nowhere to look, 
but up to Ood in heaven, to help me. My dear wifo and 
eldest son are, through the English threatening^, run away, 
and I fear will perish in the woods for want of food. My 
sged mother is also lost, and all this doth greatly aggravate 
my grief. But yet I desire to hwk up to God in Christ 
Jesus, in whom alone is my help." 

Captain Page asked if he had ever assisted the enemy 
while he was with them. 

"Never," he replied. "I was often solicited, but I 
utterly denied and refused it I thought within myself, 
it is better to die than to fight against the Church of 

A few days' rest in this hospitable house was allowed to 
these wanderers, and then the whole party was sent to join 
their brethren at Deer Island. It was not until the end 
of two months that Tukapowillins wifo was restored to him. 
She was found and brought in by a messenger who had been 
sent out to the enemy. The son had perished in the woods, 
of starvation, it was supposed. 

Job was at length united to the children for whom he had 
risked so much, and lived very happily, having formed a 
second marriage with one of the Christian Indkns, whose 
escape he had phtnned; a woman who, during all the cap- 
tivity, had carefully tended his chiMren, and so praserved 
their lives. 



vovkvnm avd hatick. 



The moTomento of Philip daring this spring were not 
certainly known. Some supposed he was beyond the firon- 
tier ; others beliered him to be snugljr stowed away in some 
swamp. Many said that he led the attack on Lancaster, at 
the bead of a thousand men ; others affirmed that he was 
seen at the burning of Medficld, riding on a black horsOi 
leapng the fences, and exalting OTcr the sbin. On quit- 
ting this town, he is said to hare left a letter to the whites, 
fitftened upon a poet of the bridge. It was as follows : 

** Know, by this paper, that the Indians, that thou hast 
proToked to wrath and anger, will war this 21 years if yoa 
wilL There are many Indians yet We come 800 at this 
tinm. You must consider the Indians lose nothing but their 
life. Tou must lose your fiiir houses and cattle." 

0^ of the captires carried away from Lancaster into the 
wilderness was Mrs. Rowlandson, wife of the English min- 
ister of that town. She met with Philip beyond the Con- 
Bectient, not far fiom Northfield, and makes repeated men- 
tion of his humanity to her. 

The spring was now adrancing, and, towards the end of 
April, it was resolred that a company of Indians from Deer 
Tfi^twi should be armed and sent out Forty men were 
•deded, and put under the command of Captain Hunting. 
They were oidered to proceed to the Merrimack ; but, just 
as they were ready to set out from Charlcstown, news was 
brooght that an assault had been made upon the town of 
Sudbuiy, eighteen miles distant, and they aoc<nrdingly 
jMurahed in that direction. Arriving early in the morning, 
Mr forty stripped themselfes, and pamted their feces like 
dba enemy, and, leaving the English, crossed the bridge to 
leoonnoitie. They foand no Indians, bat, to their great 
0iet dbe de^l bodies of many English soldiers Uy apoo 

the field. Some of the company even shed tears at the 
sight They brought back their report to the English sol- 
diers, who resolved to march over at once and bury the 
dead. While they performed this duty, the friendly Indi- 
ans ranged on all sides to secure them from sudden attack. 
The fidelity they showed this day much lessened the hatred, 
hitherto entertained against the Indians by the people of 

From this time, the Indian soldiers were much employed 
in all the expeditions against the enemy. But, while the 
able men were absent in the service of the English, the suf- 
ferings of the. four hundred old men, women and children, 
remaining on the ishind, continued to be very great The 
winter was now past, but the cold was still severe on that 
bleak island, lying open to the ocean, and swept by the 
prevailing easterly winds. Thus .the time wore on until 
the moQth of May, when at last the General Court passed 
an order for their removal to the maiiihind. Mr. Gookin. 
thdr old friend and ruler, hired boats to bring them from 
the island to Cambridge. Mr. Thomas Oliver, — described 
as "a pious man, with a»very loving spirit to these Indi- 
WM,"— ofiered them a pkoe to settle on his land ; a very 
convenient situation for them. There was good fishing in 
the Charles river, close at hand ; plenty of fuel in the 
woods around, and Mr. Oliver had a good fortification at his 
house, near which the wigwams stood, where they might re- 
treat for security, in case of danger. 

This deliverance from the island was a jubilee to these 
poor people. At the time of the removal, many were sick 
among them ; some of the chief men, Waban himself, and 
Thomas, their teacher. By the care of Mr. Gookin and his 
wife, and Mr. Eliot, they were provided with medknne and 












food, and mo6t of thorn recoTcred. They remained hero all 
the sommer, except a few who went to work for the English 
in the time of harvest. 

Meanwhile, the progress of the war had inflicted great 
saffering on the hostile Indians. Philip himself had re- 
treated to Pokanoket The Nipmucks, his allies, had been 
so harassed by English soldiers, that they were unable to 
plant their fields, and they were now reduced to great 
straits. Sometimes the troops of the colony could trace 
them for miles through the woods, by the earth, turned 
up for lily-roots and ground-nuts. Tom also by dissen- 
skms, and now hopeless of success, they at length sent 
a messenger to the English, to beg for peace, and to prom- 
ise that they *' would sit still." . Ue was the bearer of a 
letter addr(»sed to ''Mr. John Lercrott, my Lord, Mr. 
Waban, and all the chief men our Brethren, praying to 
God ;" and earnestly entreated peace in the name of Jesus 
Christ, and for His sake. 

The council made answer, that those who had been 
drawn into the war by their chiefs, should hare their 
lives spared if they would give up their arms, and promise 
to life peaceably ; but the ringleaders could not expect such 

We hare now to mention one more instance of cruel 
wrong which the Praying Indians receircd at the hands 
of the whites. As a small party of women and children 
were gathering whortleberries, about four miles from Water- 
town nilly some Englishmen met them, exchanged with 
them some bread and cheese for some of their whortleber- 
ries, and then left them. After going on about a mile, 
lliey eame bade and murdered all the womra and their 
little ones. 




Next day, when the squaws did not return to their wig- 
wams, tho husband of one of them came to Mr. Gookin*s 
house in Cambridge, and told him he feared some evil had 
be&Uen his wife and sister, and asked an order to seek for 
tliem. After a day or two of fruitless search, he took with 
him a party of fifteen or sixteen Indians, and a few Eng- 
lish, and at length found the dead bodies, lying not fur 
apart Some had been shot, othera knocked in the hcnd 
with hatchets. The four murderers were seised and 
brought to trial, and two were executed for the crime. 

Every one knows the end of King Philip's story ; how 
at lost, deserted by most of his allies, and hunted fiom 
phioe to place, he took refuge with a few followers near 
his own Pokanoket; low, when all was lost, and wife, 
child, brother, sister, kinsman and friends, were dead, or 
in the power of his enemies, ho was himself shun, on tne 
morning of the 12th of August, 1676. Not by an Eng- 
lish hand ; — it was one of his own race, one of his own 
tribe, whose ball pierced the sachem's heart 

" I nw in the naktd ibresC 

A Mattered remnant east ; 
A screen of withering branehfs 

Between them and the blast 
The snow was falling nmnd them* 

Tlie djing fell as fiist ; 
I looked to see them perish, — 

When, lo ! the Yision passed. 

*' Again mine ejes were opened, 

The feeble liad waxed strong. 
The babes had grown to stun^jmoo, 

The remnant was a throng. 
Bjr shadowed Uke and winding stream 

And all the shores along. 
The howling demons quaked to hear 

The ChrisUans* godljr song.'* 





'^ .^V^jO^w; he English Imd lost nx 
O^I^UlB liundml men, tlie flower of 
i^ their Blrcngth. Thirteen 
:■'*? towns hall been destroyed, 
1%*;;^ and sin hundrwl dwcUingi 
«- consumetl ; thut is, ererj 
cknnth frmilj wis boMeleas. And, if there bid been do 
I^iiit oooverts, onr fcthen might hiTe aaliered greater 
diHHten itill, nod Philip'* wwriore might hate nade good 
Aeir tbnat to bam the npital itself. 

Undemlned utd d(»i«ied u the Pr«]riDg Indims were 
UwoBghont the etnigglo, the MrrioeB they peribnneA were 
■either tsw nor snimpOTtuit. Many a duger ma arertcd 
bj thdr Tigilant fideUty, mny Englidi Utm aared by their 



oonngeoos affection ; and their knowledge of ibo oonntiy, 
their actirity, and ready good-will, might hare been em- 
ployed to a mneh greater extent, if it had been posaiUe to 
those distraeted timet, to look at a red man withont distnut 
or prejulioe. 

The history of the Martha's Vineyard Indians shows this. 
Hen, too, in the beginning of the tronbles, it wns supposed 
necesaary to disarm the Indians, who wore tar more numor- 
ons than the English, and a meseengcr was sont to dilLrent 
parts of Uio ialaods to announce this decision. The Indi- 
ans, however, represented to tho English anthoritics that 
the surrender of their weapons would expose tliem to de- 
atnetion, from Indians no less hostile to them than to the 
English themaelres. "Wo have novcr," thoy said, "af- 
forded the least occasion (or distrust, ond we are ready to 
give any proof of ftlclJty consistent witli onr safiity." 

Either the majority of the English people on tho Vine- 
yard were loss nnrenaonablo and violent than those of the 
Bay, or Oovcmor Kbyhew had more firmnoss of will than 
Governor Lererett, for wo find that tho Christian Indiana ' 
here were allowed to keep their gnns, ond were funiishod 
with ammunition. What was the result 1 So faithful were 
these oonvcrta, that not only did they refuse to join their 
eoantrymen on the main, hut immediately sciicd any stmn- 
gen who landed among them, and carried them before the 
governor, to bo dealt with at his pleasure. They took upon 
themselves tho entire doEbnoe of the island, which remained 
quiet and anmolested through the whole war. 

And now there remains for ns only to tell what became 

of some of the chief porsonagen in our atory. As sachem, 

Wannalaooet claims to bo first spokon ot IIo had been 

jwned all through the summer of 16T6, by vaiioas parties 




1 1 







« » 




of Nipmucks, and, in September of that jear, he came into 
Dorer, New Hampshire, with aboat four hundred Indians, 
of his own and other tribes, and surrendered to the English. 
As the Pawtuckets had never been engaged in the war, 
thej were under no apprehensions of ill-treatment, and 
peihaps many of the Nipmucks hoped to pass for Paw- 

Having surrendered, or having been made prisoners, at 
Dover, the whole company were sent down to Boston, and 
there about half the number were either executed or sold 
faito slavery, on the evidence of some English captives, who 
testified tlutt they had seen them in arms. Numphow's son 
Samuel barely escaped, as did Symon Betokom. 

The sachem's friendly conduct to the English, and many 
humane actions performed towards prisoners for whom he 
had interceded with their captors, fully appearing, ho was 
set at liberty with a few of his followers, and was pei-suaded 
to return to his former residence near ChelmsFord. But he 
was never again contented at his old homo. Before he came 
back, the English had seised on his lands and planted them. 
He was an intruder on his own soil ; and, though he pre* 
served his peaceful demeanor towards the English, the old 
confidence and affection must have been lost In about a 
yeir firom the time he had come in, ho was visited by a 
party of Indians from Canada, who prevailed upon him to 
accompany thom to their country. Wannalancet, with all 
his people, departed, and was not heard of in the colony 

By many persons ho was blamed, for going away with 
tfaeae heathen Indians. But his place of abode was now 
beeome a dangerous one ; — there was reason to dread both 
dbe Maquaa and the Eastern IndianSi sinoe the number of 


bis followers was so much diminished. These Canada Indi- 
ans were allied to him ; one of them was his wife's brother, 
and bis eldnt son was lirag among them. His tribe, too, 
had but little oom for their snbsistonce, and great promises 
were held out of the hunting thej would find, the abundance 
of moose and bearer. 

Not long before his departure from Pawtucket, Wanna- 
lancet went to a minister of Chelmsford, to make inquiries 
for some of his former acquaintances, and to ask if the place 
had suifered much during the war. The clergyman an- 
swered that they had been highly forored in that respect, 
for which he thanked God. " Me next," said Wannalancet, 
conscious that his interposition had often saved them from 
great calamities. 

Captain Tom, who, in the time of the prosperity of the 
praying settlements, had been assistont ruler of the Nip- 
muck country, fell into the hands of the English during the 
war, and was executed as a rebel, in the June before Philip's 
death, much to the grief of some of his friends, as Mr. Eliot 
and Mr. Oookin. He and a fellow-eu8erer died penitent 
and praying to God. 

Matoonas was also a Nipmuek chief; we have known 
him as constoblo at Pakachoog. To him was charaed the 
first mischief done in the Massachusetts colony, during 
Philips war,— the murder of a man named Post, at Men- 
don. He was also one of the leaders in the ambush, laid for 
Captain Hutohinson, at Quaboag. He joined the main 
body of the Nipmucks. in the winter of 1675, when the 
rqoioingB made at his arrival were witnesnd by the sdt 
Quanapobit ' " 

When Matoonas was brought before the council of Masaa- 
ehuaetts, he confessed that he had justly deserved death, and 

I " ■» ^ •'i* 


■" 1 - • 

- -^l M UN. 
-J I' ... 

■. I 





ccmld expect no other sentence. He woe condemned to be 
iliot, on Boston Common, bj three Indians. 

The streets of Boston, on the 26th of September, 1676, 
were filled with a crowd of persons, all intent on one com- 
mon object of interest The migistrates, the military, the 
clergy, appear in solemn procession. Hundreds of men and 
bojs pour along thumgh the town ; even some women are 
among the throng. There is to be an execution, to-day, of 
four Indians, and the whole community is sstir. Now come 
the prisoners, walking each with a halter about his neck,— 
fimr Nipmuck chieft. Looking closely at them, we recog- 
nise them all. 

First marched Monoco, or One-eyed John, the chief 
leader in the tragedies at Lancaster and Medfield, and one 
of the fiercest enemies of the English. Afkcr he had burned 
all Groton, except one garrison-house, he called to the cap- 
tain who defended this, and told him lie momt to bum in 
succession Chelmsford, Concord, Watertown, Cambridge, 
Chariestown, Boxbury, and Boston, adding, **What me 
will, me do." With many a shudder, must these threats of 
One-eyed John hare been repeated in the English seUle- 
nents. At the ckwe of Philip's war, Monoco gare himself 
up with the others at Dorcr, feeling, I suppose, that he had 
iiierely performed the duty of a warrior. 

Mantamp, of Quaboag, came next, and with him old 
Jethro, who had run away rather than go to Deer Island 
with the Naticks ; and, last of all, Shoshanim, or Sag^- 
UMon Sam, of Nashoway, with whom terminated the rule of 

BhoWs family. 

Though, at the death of King Philip, the war is said to 
hafo ended, the country was not yet quiet The wares 
md fiei ahms the shore, after the winds which raised 

them have sunk to rest The Maquas were heard of now 
and then, irritated anew against the Nipmucks, as Philip's 
friends ; and the Indians of Maine continued to ravage and 
burn the eastern settlements. 

Many of the Praying Indians have disappeared, killed in 
battle, or fiillen into heathenism again, or executed as reb- 
eb, or fitmished in the wilderness, or shot and burnt by 
murderous hands, or sold int^i slavery by their Christian 
brethren, the whites, or buried on the bleak island in the 

The letters of Mr. Eliot, at this time, show his deep inter- 
est in the fiite of the unfortunate ones who had been sold as 
slaves. Writing in 1688, he entreats his correspondent, 
Mr. Boyle, to make efforts for the relief of some of these, 
of whom he had just heard at Tangier, in Africa. " I am 
persuaded," he says, "that Christ will at the great day 
reckon it among your deeds of charity, done for His name's 

Not small was the list of such deeds performed by Mr. 
Eliot's friend, who was for many yeare President of the 
Society for Propagating the Gospel among the Indians. In 
one letter he is thanked by Mr. Eliot for his kindness to 
them in their dark day. "Many of our aged, decrepit, 
fiitherlcss, and widows, still wear the garments which your 
charity did the last winter ck>the us withaL" 

The Indians who had been settled upon Mr. OUver's hind, 
after they were brought fit)m Deer Island, removed in the 
beginning of the autumn, some to the fiills of the Charles, 
some to the hill of Nonantum, where they fixed themselves 
near the very phice where Mr. Eliot had first taught them, and 
where they had first begun to pray to God. Here Anthony 
built a large wigwam, in which a lecture was heM and a 





Mhool tftn^t daring the fbllowiiig winter. Mr. Eliot tad 
Mr. Oookin Tirited them onoe a fortnight They pTinted 
•one gitmnd, and raised some liUle com. The soldiers, 
still absent with the army at the eastward, had com prorided 
for their fomilies by the colony, and the widows and aged 
had com and clothing, at the expense of the society in Lon- 
don. Many of the men got venison in the winter, snd they 
took with their scoop -ncto abnndance of frost-fish, ^hich 
they dried for futnre use. When the winter wss over, some 
of them went to their former homes in Natick, Magnnkook, 
and Ilassanamesit 

Bat their old pkntations had been mostly broken ap, and 
I am sorry to say, it was the English who had done the 
greater part of the mischief They had torn away Uie 
fences for their own ose ; they had sown the corn-fields with 
rye for themselves j and cart-loads of young apple trees 
they had Ukcn from the flourishing orchanlsof the Indians, 
and had planted them in their own. For fear of the Ma- 
qoas, the Praying Indians relinquished the more distant 
stations, and finally settled down in four communities, at 
Natick, Puukapoag, Wamcsit, and what is now called Dud- 
ley. In all these they had teachers and schools, and held 
occasional meetings in other places, where the Indians gath- 
ered for fishing. 

In 1685, tlie second edition of the Indian Bible was com- 
pleted. Mr. Eliot superintended it, of course, and gave part 
of his salary towards defraying the expense, the corpora- 
tion in Engbmd proriding the rest This work had been 
modi in Mr. Eliot*s mind. His earnest desire to see it 
ihed before his deaih, is often expressed in his let- 
My age makes me importunate. I shall depart 
r, may I bat leaTO the Bible among tbemi for it if 

the word of life.'' And in another letter, "Our Praying 
Indians, in the isknds and on the main, are thousands of 
souls, of whom some are belierers, some leamere, and some 
still infants, and all of tliem beg, cry, entreat for Bibles, bar. 
ing already enjoyed that blessing, but now are in great want" 
James Printer, the son of tlie deacon, Naoas, was again 
employed on the second edition of the Indian Bible. lie 
had retumeil to the English after the war, on occaskm of a 
proclamation of the council, that all Indians who should 
come in within fourteen days, might hope for mercy. He 
lired many years after, working at his okl tnule, in the 
printing-oflico at Cambridge. 

Mr. Eliot, in his old age, had the comfort of seeing some 
younger men take an intoi-est in the conversion of his poor 
Indians. One of these was the pious and learned Mr. Daniel 
Gookin, son of the superintendent He was minister at 
Sherburne, and, while learning the Indian language, preached 
onoe a month at Natick, with the help of an interpreter. 

John Dunton, a booLj;;llcr of London, made a visit to 
New England in the year 1685, of which he has left an 
account lie speaks with strong admiration of the success 
of Mr. Eliot's labors, having made a journey to Natick on 
purpose to see something of the Indians there. The follow- 
ing is an amusing descriptioQ of an " Indian Queen," proba- 
bly not the Squaw-sachem : 

" When we were setting forward," from Boston to Na- 
tick, "I was forced, out of civility and gratitude, to take 
Madam Brick behind me on horseback. It is true she was 
the flower of Boston, but in this case proved no more than 
a beautiful sort of luggage to me. About twenty miles to 
Nauck, where the best accommodatkms we couU meet with 
were very coarw. We tied up our horses in two oW barns, 


»• w« m>mum 

-. i 



almost laid in ruins. We had no place where we conld be- 
stow onrselvcs, unless upon greensward, until the lecture 
began. We were informed that the sachem and the queen 
were there, and went immediateljr to visit them. My cour- 
age did not foil, for I stepped up and kissed the Indian 
queen, making her two very bw bows, which she returned 
YtTj civilly. The sachem was very tall and well limbed, 
but with no beaid, and a sort of a horse-fiice. The queen 
was well shaped, and her features might pass pretty well ; 
eyes bhick as jet, and teeth white as ivory ; her hair long 
and black. She seemed considerably advanced in years. 
Her dress was peculiar, with sleeves of moose-skin, yery 
finely dressed, and drawn with lines of various colors, in 
Asiatic work, and buskins of the same sort Her mantle, 
of fine blue cloth, very short, tied about her shoulders and 
at the waist, with a xone curiously wrought with white and 
Uue beads ; a bracelet and necklace of the same, a little 
tablet on her breast finely decked with jewels and precious 
stones. Her hair was combed back, and tied up with a bor- 
der neatly worked with gold and silver." 

The son of Waban, called Wcegrammomenet, or some- 
times Thomas Waban, was many years town clerk at Na- 
tick, where may still be seen records in his hand-writing. 
His mother, the widow of the ruler, was living there in 
1684. Wabwi himself died a few years before. His last 
words were, " I give my soul to thee, my Redeemer, 
Jesus Christ ! Pardon all my sins, and deliver me from 
helL Help me against death, and then I am willing to die. 
And when I die, help me and relieve me ! " 

Of Piambouhou*s last days, we have no record, except 
that OQ his death-bed he recommended to his brethren to 
f ( make atraig their praying to God." 




Not long ago, in the church-yard at Cambridge^ IsaW 
the grave of the good superint^ent of the Indians, and 
read this inscription on his monument : • } 

Here Ijreth intered 
thebodjorMmorOeni ' 

Ihiiilel Gookini'eged 76 jearw 
wlio departed this lilb 7« 10 of Ifanh 

Mr. Eliot survived all these, though now some years past 
fourscore. Sometimes he used to say, he was afraid hii 
old Christian friends who were departed would think he 
had gone the wrong way, because he remained so long 
behind them. 

" Tou will say to them, he is no more I They will hear 
the tidings like the Ml of a mighty oak in the stilbcss of 
the wood." 

All New England mourned for Mr. Eliot, when at length 
he went to rest, in the year 1690. " We had a tradition 
among us," says Mather, " that the country could nevei^ 
perish as long as Eliot was alive." The Indian church at 
NaUck wept for him, and would not bo comforted. For 
years after, almost as long, indeed, as the church continued 
in existence, what Mr. Eliot had directed or approved was 
their law. No other man could ever be to them wliat he 
had been. Mr. Daniel Gookin bestowed much pious care 
upon them, and they had now an Indian pastor, Daniel 
Takawompbait, "ordained by that reverend and holymah 
of God, Mr. John Eliot, deceased ; " so say Mr. Rawson 
and Mr. Danforth. These gentlemen, the ministers at 
Mendon and Taunton, spent part of the summer of 1608 in 
visiting the ieveral Indian plantations in Massachusetts. 









Tbej fimnd the chnrch tt Naiick greatlj diminished, har- 
log DOW only seven men and three women. The number 
of grown persons in the settlement was a hundred and ten; 
there were seventy chiMren under sixteen years of age, but 
there was no school-master, and only one child could read. 
At the death of Takawompbait, in 1716, the church, — Mr. 
Eliot*s church, — was broken up. 

Another charch was formed in 1729, in which were at 
first only tliree Indians. During the next twenty years 
the minister baptized one hundred and ninety-one otherSi 
and admitted thirty-five to the communion. The third min- 
ister, Mr. Badger, writing in 1797, says that few of " the 
remnant of them " attended public worship, and the number 
of communicants was reduced to two or three. During Mr. 
Badger's filVy years' residence at Natick, there was a steady 
decrease in tlie number and prosperity of the Indians. This 
was owing to various causes. Mony engaged in the wars 
that broke out in 1754, and perished abroad; others brought 
home a contagious fever, which spread very fast, and carried 
off wliole fiimilics. AU through this eighteenth century, we 
find them growing more and more dispirited, more indolent 
and remiss in improving their lands, more ready to adopt 
intemperate and vicious habits. Their civil and military 
privileges were gradually lessened, and finally transferred 
to the English, who also had become possessors of most of 
the lands. 

In 1721, there were but two white fiunilica at Natick ; in 
1745, it was already an English and not an Indian town. 

When I was there, the other day, I found no trace of the 
Indian in this his "phoe of hilb,'' except the humUe 
grave-itooe of Daniel Takawompbaiti built into the wall that 
nuM aeroM hii grave. 

Atna iHi WAB. 

••li«t Bbpt k towwfag pl,o«l^y M befci^ 
TlM MM bHglit iBilt die ioUs sod Tdkji 

Bat thou, tfc«lr pride, tWrlwror, trt no ■d^ 
And t^ bold ftUowm are diuBboriiig Umiv { 

Or hopfy, ifChe botUo elMoed to apm 
A *v, Mm wreloiMd, to tlM tnddcM Won 

^^ itd, to mk s nibgo Ami dcopolr. 

Ako I tlw «tfCk YOMhMfti BO ploeo of iMt, 
tWr sns aie iMlid stfll, wio«fid. koslod. Slid ofiprwid. 



• % 

'. • 




: I 

! r 

J ^ 


? N 1848, ft commission 

I was appointed to asecr- 

Uin the condition of tho 

Indians living in Mossacho- 

' BCtts. From tlic report made 

to the Legislature, we arc 

aMe to state the present 

nombe™ and position of the 

deocendante of the former 

r ,1,. ,»il Ther may all bo counted now, the 

„™„g,|s of th. 7^ ™'„ J „t s.„„„, and of M.^ 

fe, in .ho«. Tc.n. «»"''».'""» ° ,i k, Hundred and 

„„[t. The whole ■lomber,™ 1848, was cgntn 


The nwtt floariBbing eommunity now wihu 


13 on Ihe island of ChappcqniJdic, the "anrly Bngamore'a" 
territory of olil. Ilcro oro twcWe families. Many of the 
men go to sea, and arc considered good siulors. Tlicy live 
in framed houses, wilh "a aporo room," comfortably car- 
peted, and adorned with prints and curicsitics, such as flhclls 
and comls collected in the eastern and southern seas. In 
Bnmnicr, these people sell blackberries at Nnntuclcct. Al- 
though their island boa a bleak exposure and a barren soil, 
their attempts at agriculture arc moi-c successful ihnn those 
of any Indians elsewhere, and they arc not inferior, in dress, 
manners and intelligence, to their white neighbors. 

Going over to Nope, wo find eleven families of " Chris- 
tiitntoffn Indians," as they are called, in Tisbury, on th« 
norther? side of the Vineyard. They livo chiefly by ngri- 
cultnro, although some go to sea. 

There was here one young man of twenty-two, the seventh 
of a familyof nine children. All hod died in early manhood, 
and womnnliood, except himself and one elder hi-otbcr, now 
helpless and blind in consequence of ill-treatment ot sea. 
The younger, one of the best seamen who sailed from (he 
south shore, had risen to the rank of second mate, but had 
come home hopeless and desponding, and spent most of his 
time in melancholy wnndciing omong tho graves of Iiis kin- 
dred. " Why should I try to become anything?" ho nsked, 
with bitter emphasis. "Tho prejudice against our color 
keeps us down. I may bo n fii-at-ratc navigator, and as 
good a seaman as ever walked a deck, but I am doomed to 
livo and die before the most. I can never command a ves- 
sel, and although I might be second mate, or first mate, 
and, when at sea, treated as such, because I deserved it, it 
is not BO on shore. The moment wo arrive in port, or full 
in oompany with other vessels, and our captain invites other 





captains and mates to dine with him, 1 am Danisnea lo we 
foiecastle. Why ihouM I try!" 

" We codd not answer him," says the report of the oom- 
misaioners, " for we felt that we could not pluck from his 
heart that rooted sorrow." 

Gayhead, at the extreme west of the island, is connected 
with it only by a narrow isthmus, a few rods in width. This 
is the best land in the island ; but the thirty-eight families 
who lire here cultivate only Indian com and poUtoes, and 

• hare no " sauce-gardens," like the Chappcquiddics. Some 
possess framed houses and bams ; a few live in squalid 
boTcls. The clay of this promontory, which b of very fine 
quality, is in demand for various purposes, and the Indians 

' make a good deal of money by its sale. When a vessel 
eomca for a cargo, notice is given, and on the doy fixed, all 
the men, women and children, unite to dig the cby and 
kiad the tcsscI, and the money is equitably divided. They 
sell from a hundred and fifty to three hundred tons annually, 
at about three dollars a ton. 

' The cranberry meadows are another source of profit 
When the cranberries are ripe, the whole tribe, on a cer- 
tain day, repair to the meadow, and every one is entitled to 
as many as he can gather. They have a school during five 
mntha of the year, but no regukr religious service. They 
are a quiet, peaceable, contented people, and jealously refuse 

' to alhm any white man to settle upon their territory ; they 
win not even lease a foot of hind, on which to erect works for 

.manu&cturing the day. 

• CitMsing the Vmeyaid Sound to the Main, wo visit 
ilaiahpee, and on Sunday we attend the meeting of the 
tribe. The meeting-hoase is situated in a secluded spot, 
with oaks and pfaiea about it The graves of departed ^xm- 



verts are at our feet as we step upon tlie threshold. It may 
be that the spirits of Eliot and Mayhew are among the great 
cloud of witnesses to our simple services. The congregation 
is chiefly composed of white persons, and the minister is a 
white man. There are only five or six Indians present 
Mr. Amos, a native preacher, called also *' Blind Joe," to- 
day plays the accordion and leads the choir. He stands up, 
till and manly, with his face tumed to heaven, and his 
* siglitless eyes swimming with tears. 

The Indians at Marshpee suffer inconyenienco from the 
encroachments of the whites on tlieir fishing grounds, and, 
not many years ago, they presented a memorial to the Leg- 
islature upon the subject They are about three hundred 
and five in number ; a few are beggars, but most gain a 
tolerable living by raising com and potatoes. 

The Ilerring-Pond tribe, in the eastern part of Plymouth, 
and westem part of Sandwich, are superior in condition to 
the Marshpees. They number fifty-five individuals, and 
have preaching one Sunday in six. 

Near Fall River are Uiirty-seven Troy or Fall River 
Indians, who chiefly support themselves as day-bborers. 

The Dudley tribe, as they are called, live in the town of 
Webster, and are poorer, more ignorant and degraded, than 
any of their brethren. A very few obtain an honest living 
by cultivating their land, and by working in tlie employ- 
ment of the whites. The report says, << They have reached 
a lower deep than any others in the statf)." 

At Grafton (Hassanamesit), the Indian children attend 

the public schools, and will soon be merged in the genenil 

community. Hero are five fiimilies, who are industrious 

and comfortable. 

The Naticks, also, are practically extinct, though there 




arc a few in and about Natick, who laj claim to some share 
of Indian descent 

In the Boston newspapers, last autumn, we read this par- 
agraph : "Died, at Canton, Mass., November 1, 1852, 
Mary Burr, the last of the Punkapoag Imlians, aged 101." 
In the time of the Commission, diis woman was the only 
one left of her tribe, of the full blood. There are less than 
% dosen persons, of mixed Indian and negro race, who are 
called Punkapoags, and lire in the towns of Stoughton and 
Canton. They have no lands, and arc supportchl by the 
State, when not capable of taking care of themselves. 

I have read a list of the names of all the Indians in Mas- 
sachusetts ; and among the eight hundred and forty-seven, 
tliere are but two or three that have an Indian sound. The 
leent of the pine woods is not in such names as Jackson, 
Cook and Brown, nor the soft gurgle of the brook in Wil* 
liams. Cooper and Perry. But I find Webquisb at Chap- 
pequiddic, Aucouch at Gay-head ; at Marshpee, Attaquin, 
and Pocknet, and Tompon. Some of the Christian names 
are very odd ; as Ferriby, Theodate, Philma, Tamersane 
Diadama ; one person is Wealthy Wamp. 

All the Indians in Massachusetts are under the care of 
guardians appointed by tlie State. Africans, Irish, Chinese, 
may enjoy the privileges of citisenship. The Indian alone 
is disfranchised ; he, the descendant of monarchs, is a vassal 
in the land of his fathers. 

The old Oak still stands at the foot of the hill of Nonan- 
torn. The square, dark volume lies unread on the shelf of 
the library at Cambridge, and sometimes. 

** — ia tiw gqr and Boiq 
Of tiw gnat oiljt wUeli aaarpa tlio plaet 
or tin maU ladtaa ▼Ulac% OM ahaU tM 


Some miflenble relio of that race, 

Whoie sordjr-Umiislied fiiHanes we have faag ; 

Tet how (MmmJ and frlfoa ! lahbcjo 

The iUne of aobie dariag b gone ovt« 

And hb brmTO Siee haa loit ite Martial kMk. 

Ilia 9J9 raita oo the eaHh, aa if the graTO 

Were hia aole hope, hie hwt and ooljr home. 

A poor, thin garb la wrapped ahoot hia flrame, 

Whoeo mtrj plight bat moeka hia aaeiant atate ;' 

And la the bleak and pitlleaa atorm he walka 

With BMlaDehofy brow, and ahlTera aa hegoea. 

Hia pride la dead ; hia eoarage la ao more i 

ma name ia bat a bj-word. AUthetribea 

Who ealled thia mi^tj eoathMot their owB« 











• • 








rtriking a»»t»t»^ «f *^«;^ Z North American r«e. 

B im pi^ented by *!«'.»»*•?* ^„^ ^i the winter of 
Beoti^ to the «uthonUc» of the P"*""^' j„j,ged 

^^^ IX _-- *« Halibx ten fine, stalwtrt men, areww 
1850. Th*y«T • nf^tare lA decorated with mod. 
to their gaj •«» ^«^ J»*:Z;r time., from diifcr«jt 
•b nsoeitcd by ^^^!*^^ Ttheir head wa. Paul, the 
.^ertor. of Qocen "f^^^J^'^' ^}Me for hi. 
..high chief," a tmly teneraWe man, remar 

triadom and sagtcity- 
toUndanowealkdNoTaBwua, 1^ ^^^^ 


Tired of a war that destroyed many of oar people, almost 
ninot/ years ago onr ehief made peace, and buried tbe 
hatchet forever. When that peace was made, the English 
govcnuMr promised ns protection, as much knd as we wanted| 
and the preservation <^ our fisheries and game. These wo 
now very much want 

Before the white people came, wo had plenty of wild 
roots, plenty of fish, and plenty of com. The skins of the 
moose and caribou were warm to our bodies, we had plenty 
of land, wo worshipped the Great Spirit, we were free, and 
we were happy. 

Good and honorable governor, be not offended at what we 
say, for we wish to please you. But your people had not 
land enough ; they came and killed many of our tribe, and 
took from us our country. Tou have taken from us our 
lands and trees, and have destroyed our game. The moose* 
yards of our fiithers, where are they? White men kill the 
moose and leave the moat in the woods.* You have put 
ships and steamboats upon the waters, and they scare away 
the fish. You have made dams across the rivers, so that the 
salmon cannot go up, and your laws will not permit us to 
spear them. 

In old times our wigwams stood on the pleasant places 
along the sides of the rivers. These places are now taken 
away firom us, and we are told to go away. Upon our old 
camping grounds you have built towns, and tho graves of 

^ There b nraeh tniUi In thb eompUint ef these poor IndUns. W« 
read, eonie tinie ago, ui Moonnt, writleii bj a DrHieh olBoert of* ■porting 
ezenrrion nmile 1^ himeeir and a firiend to the Ibveete north of the 8t. 
Lawrenee» the oljeet being to shoot moose. The gentlemen were Teiy 
snooemlbl, UUing nmoee to their hearts* eontent ; hnt thqr ste, of eonnN» 
en^jr a small portion of the meat,^ the ehoioest mormls,* thus wasting 
what wonU have supplied perhaps fcrtj or iftjlndhui fiunllies. 



oar &theTS are broken bj the plough and harrow. Even 
the ash and maple are growing scarce. We are told to cut 
no trees upon the fiirmers' ground, and the land you haTO 
giren us is taken awaj ever/ year. 
' Before you came we had no sickness; our old men were 
wise, and our young men were strong ; now, small-poz, 
measles and fever, destroy our tribe. The rum sold Uiem 
makes them drunk, and they perish, and they learn wicked- 
ness our old people neyer heard of. 

Surely we obey your laws ; your cattle are safe upon the 
hills and in the woods. When your children are lost, do we 
not go to look for them? 

The whole of our people in Nora Scotia is about fifteen 
hundred. Of that number one hundred and six died in 
1846, and the number of deaths in 1848 was, we believe, 
ninety- four. We were never in a worse condition than now. 
We ynSer for clothes and for victuals. We cannot sell our 
boskets and other work, the times are so hard. Our old 
people and young children cannot live. The potatoes and 
wheat do not grow, and good people have nothing to give 
US. Where shall we go, what shall we do? Our nation 
is like a wiihcrinff leaf in a summer^ s sun. 

Some of your people say we are laxy ; still we work. If 
you say we must go and hunt, we tell you again, to hunt 
is one thing, and to find meat is another. They say catch 
fish; and we try. They say make baskets ; we do so, but 
we cannot sell them. They say make farms ; this is very 
good| but will you help us till we cut away the trees and 
raise the crop ? We cannot work without food. Thepota- 
ioes and whest we raised last yearwere killed by the poison 
winds. Help us, and we will try again. 

All the people say ihey wish to do us good, and they 



&1> «* newly «,„« ^ T ^' ^ *>" «»»• "d 
'^v 6""®i anci we cannot rpH ai,» ^Z- i 

J»Te resolved to iwUce fiuiM -31 ^' *^^' *« 

without help. We «ll^r^ ? *"""* "^o «»»>• 

•^ Son. h.;eTgr^ "2^*; r* «** '--'- 

»T ? Wo will ..1. ^ •"^eaay. What more can we 

/ ' ne wiu ask our mother thA n^^^ * i. i ^'^ ^^ 




8AA0AACU HBirsn. 
I^UM hVXlE, 
Plfil* if ORRIS, 






A Heart 

■Ab Arrow. 





Dr. Gesner, the distinimished i«v>i««- * 
while making a survey of^^ B^*'' V' '"" "^^'^ 
*~over, in the wildei^^ an oSTT''^' ^ ^^"^ ^ 
the watem of a river r^erhol^'' ^"^ ^'''^ 
.to-acb. ^m this dit^iy^he^^^^ 
^e Bome rude hkm^glyr^Z^^J^ ^'^''"^ ^^ ^»«^- 




A hunter with hi. go. 'T^^J'S^I^^ 

^ ^r'^rU^^f-J^jt be comet 
conTeyed in the 8»ie i»»y, *» «*™" i-^nding Bel riter, 

I„ «K,»her inrt««e. IJ^ JJ^^ ^^ rf . fcn. when 

•ad their Utee were m J«T^y *'""' . ._^ i„diMis with 
rinse d«wing e«K5ht iheir .^^*^^ ^ 

JTheel. «Pir-\^ ^; :^.Za piece of 
laadiDg elbeted in tiBieto««>H» iw«Wl"— e 




. t>ii .w»U«dwiththeAben«iui«,cotheKen. 
S2^ were to«ed of the Aborigine-. 

mt. ;.-««rTof the embMtotion of thePilgruM »t 
The tamtenwpj <^ w« thiriy-three ye«»go,^ 

Delft-HaTen, two hundred ijdtto^ 


Fron thebe«rtifiil»P^»» V~ He bi^^ 
I^poletwoor *»r ^T^S^ 
Jeaeontinentbefciethe pflgnmi ewne, ina 


€.T -.•«!• or two of them, poor WMww^*^ 

into Fljrnioathi seated by the road-side, irondering specta- 
tors of the pageant which was passing before their eyes. 

^^ A few days ago, as I saw in the newspapers, two light, 
birch-bark canoes appeared in Boston harbor, containing 
each a solitary Indian. They seemed, as they approached, 
to gase in silent wonder at the city of the triple hills, rising 
street aboye street, and crowned with the dome of the State 
House, and at the long line of villas stretching fiur into the 
back-ground ; at the numerous tall yessels, outward bound, 
as they dropped down the channel, and spread their broad 
wings to the breese, and those which were returning, weath- 
er-beaten from the ends of the earth ; at the steamers, dash- 
ing in every direction across the harbor, breathing volumes 
of smoke from their fiery lungs. They paddled their frail 
barks with dexterity and speed, through this strange, busy, 
and to them, no doubt, bewildering scene ; and, having made 
the circuit of East Boston, the Navy Yard, the city itself, 
and South Boston, dropped down with the current, and dis- 
appeared among the islands. 

'* There was not a human being of kindred blood to utter 
a word of welcome to them, in all the region, which, on the 
day we now commemorate (August 1st, 1620), was occu- 
pied by their forefikthers in Massachusetts. 1?he race is 


No one of our natioiial waters has, so ha|q[>ily as Mr. 
Everett caught, the tone of Indian eloquenoe. Witness his 
speech when, as governor of Msssachusetts, he received the 
deputation of the Saos and Foxes, that visited Boston in 
November, 1887 : 


"Chicfi and warriors of the Sacs ind Foxes, you are 
neloome to our hall of council. 

" Brothers! you hare come a long way fipom home to 
Tisit your white brethren ; we rejoice to take you by the 


"Brothers! we have heard the names of your chiefii and 
warriors ; our brothers, who have travelled into the West, 
have toU us a great deal of the Sacs and Foxes; we rejoice 
to see you with our own eyes, and Uke you by the hand. 

"Brothers! we are called the Massachusetts. This is 
the name of the red men that once lived here. Their wig- 
wams filled yonder field ; their council fire was kindled on 
this spot They were of the same great race as the Sacs 

and Misquakuiks. 

"Brothers! when our fiithers came over the great waters 
they were a small band. The red man stood upon the rock 
by the sea-side, and saw our &thers. He might have 
poshed them into the water and drowned them. But he 
stietchcd out his arm to our fathers and said, * Welcome, 
white men ! ' Our fathers were hungry, and the red man 
gave them com and venison. Our fiithers were cold, and 
the red man wrapped them up in his blanket We are now 
numerous and powerful, but we remember the kindness of 
the red man to our fiithers. Brothers, you are welcome; 

we are glad to see you. 

"Brothers! our bon are pale, and your fiuses are dark ; 
but our hearts are alike. The Great Spirit has made his 
children of dilierent cokyrs, but he toves them alL 

"Brothers I you dwell between the Mississippi and the 
Missouri. They ar« mij^ty rivers. They have one branoh 
ftr east in the AUeghanies, and the other fiurwesiin the 
Bod^ Mountains; but thqr flow together at last into one 




great stream, and run down together into the sea. In like 
manner, the red man dwells in the West, and the white man 
in the East, by the great waters; but they ara all one &m- 
. ily; it has many branches and one head. 

" Brothers ! as you entered our council house, you beheld 
the image of our great fitther, Washington. It is a cold 
stone — it cannot speak. But he was the friend of the red 
man, and bade his children live in peacd with their red 
brethren. He is gone to the world of spirits. But his 
words have made a very deep print in our hearts, like the 
step of a strong buffido (m the soft clay of the prairie. 

"Brother!* I perceive your little son between your knees. 
God preserve his life, my brother. He grows up befi>reyou 
like the tender sapling by the side of the mighty oaL May 
the oak and the sapling flourish along time together. And 
when the mighty oak is fidlen to tho ground, may the 
young tree fill its phce in the fiHnest, and spread out its 
branches over the tribe like the patent trunk. 

"Brothers! I make you a sh<nrt talk, and again bid you 
wdcome to our council halL'' 


Oanonohbt.— " The early history of New England con- 
tains no narrative of deeper interest than the story of the 
brave and unfintunate CSanonchet, or Nanuntenoo, as he is 
sometimes called. He was the son of Miantonomo, the no- 
ble and generous firiend of Soger Williams^ and the pro- 
tector of the infimt ookny at Providenoe. 

• B wss syd, ia the Biwipi9«rs «r the lfaM» tkal Xiokwk, 
■i Mw i d as a hOm, sotnaljy Aed 






" Miantonomo had been defeated and capturdd by Unca3, 
the Bochem of the Moh^guui, and, after the ceremony of a 
trial befinre the OommiaaioiierB of the United Colonies, was, 
by their order, deliyered to his captor to be put to death. 

'^ CSanoDchet now became by inheritance chief sachem of 
the Nanragansets, and heU that station at the time of ^^ The 
Great Swamp Fight" This desperate conflict occurred in 
December, 1675, on a spot within the limits of the present 
town of South Kingston, in Rhode Island, and was long 
sustained on both sides with terrible energy and great loss 
of life. The fi>rt occupied by the Indians contained a great 
number of cabins, — probably five or six hundred, — which 
had been erected as a shelter for the feeble and the aged, 
and as places of deposit for their entire stock of prorisions 
br the winter. During the battle the cabins were fired ; 
many of the wounded, and of the women and children, per- 
khed in the flames, and the com and other stores of the 
tribe were utterly destroyed." 


The Ust greU battle had bMB iwgfaty 

TIm fiital itrUb wu o'cr» 
And tlie haaghty Narrasanfet powtr 

Had aaiik to rin BO 

Early in the spring following, Canonchet was captured 
near the Blackstone riyer, and deliyered to the Mohegan 
sachem^ Oneco, the son of his &ther's murderer. 

" The splendid dignity of his fall ^' affords an attraotiye 
theme to Uie historian and to the poet From the pen of 
Albert 0. Greene, Esq., of Proridencei we borrow Uie fol- 
lowing Tems, which gifo, in the language attributed to the 
hero, the wy words which are recorded as baring been 
actually uttevsd by him. The whole poem is too long for 



The capture of Canonchet was occasioned by his engairinir 
I»«»^7 in a daring aiid romantic expedition, tolr^ 

«« Hb Cm ate gatlMring &at bcUad, 

lb Ma Us lOliag straigth. 
Bat onward atrmina onto Im gaioa 

A rifer'a bank at length,— 
Where the deep Seefconk'a winter etteaai^ 

Like a ehmd of ftatheij enow, 
Frem the ware-worn edge ofita rinr ^iiiiV^ 

Bolla down to ita bed below. 

*« The eager hoet msh wikilj on,— 

Where is the warrior — whm? 
Beside the swollen rirer's brink,— 

Wh J stands he silent thei« f 
With firm-set hoi and folded ama^ 

He Tiews his ooming tbm ; 

Bat, heedless, sees the gathering eiowd 
That Ikst aimuid hfan ehMi. 

•• • Now yield thea, Karragansst I • oflsd 
The jonngest • of the band ; 

The eaptire slowl J tamed his head. 

And prondfy wared his hand. 
' Ton are a ehiU ; hf war 

Ton are too joong and weak. 

Oo, let joor ehief or fluher oone^ 
And I to iUM will speak I ' ** 

Be was ofiered life upon the condition that he woaU treat 

«« < An i^Q« ha tofsd ate dead sad 
His peopla'a hoar la nigh. 



Let ill tin vhtta id 

CanoDCbet wuiU to die.' 
' Thj projer a T»in ; tht pnniibBNnt 

Onr righteona lain ducna 
To rebels Mud to mnrtltf^rvr 

Uaii be the doom Tor tbee. 

•• ■ But fend back dow Ih; m 

And let then Torth b« bronglit 
The W»mp»noag fngilJTea 

Who tb; protection sought ; 
Tley were thj nation'B enemies 

Let them Ibj nnoom be j 
DeliTtr then) into out hnodi. 

And Ihou igun nrt free.' 

— 'So! not one Vimpinoag, — bo I 

)]; proniM shaU not fail l 
Kot one ! DO, nor lie paring of 

A WampanoDg nail '■ ' 
He threw a bitter glnnce of eoora 

Upon the throng arouml. 
And eUlied wai eitrj motion Ihew, 

And boshed vu ftrj gonnd. 

**"Tia good,— the Mchem theninD ^t 

He nndereUnda it all ; 
Hb Bpirit heart it and ia glad. 

He 'a radjr when 7011 ealL 
Be 'b gtul becann he 'U die bafbn 

Hie hurt gnwa sofl and weak, 
Befcre he apcska a single word 

Do wert aahaned tolpeak. 

•• • The nchcB doea not want to talk 1 

Hie uiiwer joa hare hcud i 
Ho white maa fk^nn Canonehtl'i llpi 

Shall hMr another wokL> 
Around hb tall and manl; Sxm 

Ht wrmpped hii tUQlle then. 
And, with a prood and nlent etep. 

Wort wtth tkcM aiBMd BM. 

mviAS NAUE3. 

" The tliird dnj, when the bod had aet. 

Tlie dad of guilt waa o'er, 
And a 017 of woe was borne along 

The Namgiinset shore. 
Through the Narraganset Land a 017 

or wailing and of pain 
Told that itB olilef, bj English band*. 

Was captured and waa slain, 

" Be boiti the trial and (be doom, 

Beom, inanlta, and the chain t 

But no man, to hia dying hoar. 

E'er beard him speak agaiiu" 


AbauHn, a general nano orindiani in Maine. 
AlftHii,, Dune giren lo one great dirUlon of North AaeilsaR India 
Aamiuif, on the Worrimooli, now MaDclioiter, N. II, 
..iwuntfu-, " ft gf„r of rictaali ; " Old Sanh, of Edgartown. 
Ba<Amt, Sjmon, a Ptmjiag Indian at Woinuit. 

C«wiu:*rf. ,oB of Uiantonomo, and lut uohen of (he Nungausu. 

Cmw*.™., the groat aaebcn of lbs XanagaoMt*. 

C*p.Mc*, » naiM of Martha'i \'iBcjard. 

C«.«fa«. . nehom at gwanao, nnder Uaanaolt. 

Ci^pqwUic, a (mail laland .a«t of Kartha'a Vinejard. 

Cl«4^««««*. dob, the .01, Indian gradule orC«nbrid«. 

C*TWM, a naos for the aril ipirit. 

CUct^4aiM, ■■» Hooso-o-if,," iftohew at WeTmoeth and «tbw ■ 

under Kaasanit. 
CUffttm, Indiau abont I^ke Snperlor. 
CfcAwAmfewm. now Dudle,, oM of On new prajing lowu 
t**Mwf, a dlitriet InolDding Taantoa and Sajaktm. 

, "the long ri«r.- 

CuMtmaJm, laehem at Doreheator. 
n*n, a Hohegan IndUn. 


k » 



; " lb« PlaM of fawU SimMt,** OnflM. 
9 im oonrtrt mi lUrtha'f Yiamjuid, 
th« •rVL iplrit. 

ladkii ooBTtrty aad pMlmr of a ooigro ga lioa AlVopo. 

r« Ibo Mooiid fiMl ladiaa Ikallj, eaUod alfo 8iz VftlioM. 

Jok, A PinjiBf ladiMI of IlMHUMUMtK. 

', Bmnh, tho wifo of John Tlfthatlftiraat Mii 

•l Uf W fii 9i 

Kmndttf A riTor la Malnt. 

; Ml Inaiaii tUidoBt fti OMibrldgo la 1714. 

XoM^ •^ Ibo OrigiBftl Poopit ; " mum MnuMd by Ibo Dds^ 

JfiMMMt, IndiMi TiUmgo in Woodftoek. 

Mmg mmk mq n 90g (MAgsakook), << PImeo of groal Ti«m«'* HopUatoa* 

Mknawitmkt&gin^ " JUaj BoftTon," AUngioa. 

Mmekmgt, Oxford. 

¥■!■■>, or JMmdb, koad of tbo Biz Valloaf. 

Jfiv^pw^ a Iowa oa CSapo Cod. 

U «* tko Blao Hills.*' 
r, the great lachem of the If aatpaaoagi. 
r, a Nipiaaek oblef, fkot oa Bottoa Ooamoa. 
a fabaloaf giaat oa Martba'f TlaoTard. 
a Kiparaok okiof, oaehoia of Qaaboag. 
George, a Prajriag ladiaa eaiploTed bj tho RugHih. 
Miiiienil, " a itargeoB ;'* rlTor ia lleweehaiette. 
a ■aoheai of the Narragaaieti. 
•* aa oaehaated wolf ;'* tribe la Ooaaeetfeat 
hoolHaaHer at ITatiek. 
p, or 0»o.ef«tf JUbh a Kipnaek ehlef, hortOt to the Bai^iih. 
a ooaTorted ladiaa al Oaj-Head. 
r Sagmmtn Jmrnm^ ioa of the 
Jfeiirfi|inl, ••OraMj Brook;** ladlaaaaat of < 
a Piajtag ladiaa oa ]fartha*8 Yte^jard. 
ilvir ia 

a Praylag Xadiaa al 

IflJil.lin. ■■■fc 

— tfcoMmiiek 
oa Obpo Ood, Moao of inl ighi wUh Ban 


iVe«a», a Prajiag ladiaa of HaMaaaaierit. 

NmgmnMU^ powerfnl tribe ia Bhode lelaad. 

^>, or AkMiM*, ladlaaf aboat Uaeaiter. 

J^r«Mo»«A, BOW LitUetoB. 

^•foww, ladiaa at Natiok. 

N^idt^ "aPlaooofllillf.** 

A^oMMT, a rirer of Manaehaf etie. 

Nnm^, Job, Mr. Eliot*g interpreter. 

^^'y^ I»d«*w lo and aboat Won«.ter ooaat/. 

NUkMnm^ a Prajiag Indiaa of Natiok. 

l^nmnimm, "Rejoieiag ;•• a bUi ia Nowtoa. 

1^ **'*'^ ®' Martha'i ViaeTard. 
N^mfkm, the ralor of the Prajiag lodiaae at Wamerit. 

^»^. • Mohegaa, loa of Uneai, the faehea. 
Otmmmng^ a roler at Okoauaakaaoiit. 
0»eiM9, ladiaai ia Ckaada. 
OafoeifyiyVi, a aaaie of Jfaeeaeoit. 

PoftecAo^, Woreeiter. 

PMkemk, or Pimki^omg. 

PoA^pMMM*, eaehem of OiAppeqaiddie. 

PMvoeMMiMy, fraat faehem of the Pawtaekele. 

P.-»«c»«to. indiaoi aboat the JlerriaMU*. 
P^Vaa, a NaUok Indian. 

P««mW nar.hal.general of the prayiag towii. 
Pama*..*,. Indiaa. aboat Coaoord. K. i. 
PAMfaMf, A rirer in Jfaiae. 

^^il^'^'-'" *^»^ '» Coaaeetleat. 
^-A-A^i. Praying India, of Noaaataa aad Howtoa. 

'WjM-, ladiaa aaaa of Watertowa. •^^''^ 


Ptyaaaaei, J ftmjing Indiaat at KaOek. 

^^■""*» I«Wm preaeher at Jfanhpeo. 
PW«jii«ift«aM.. ladiaai aboat Lake Miohigaa. 

^"*«*W. ••• .priag that riee. ont of red earth ,** pm^ 1^ 
^^^^ ^~*^. Bfookield. 

''■■■■"*» "**M TiUago la Woodetoek. 




•M of If AMMoii'f otpUiai, Ttry firitiidlj to tkt Bq^iik. 
ChrifiiM iDdiM kiUod at MiddlebwMigh. 
iy altorwardi ealled hjnm. 
I, •^ a wild sooM ;" towa ia MMMMhvMlU. 

or Skolmnt IHeadlj Mohem of the KMhawaji. 
Safaaort Baia, a Niptaaok ehiof. 
SmMhagmM, ladianf aorth of tho Nathawajt. 
tf or SmfmtiUf If arroB, R. I. 

TWImumA, proaeher at M artha'f Tiaeyard. 

Takattmmaut faehea of Af wkeiaqvid. 

Tmkmmmpbml, Daniel, ladiaa paator ai Natiek. 

Tmmlmmou»t old Jethro, I^sdiaa of Pukaekoog. 

Tt^mmmmmm, a powaw on Mariha'f Tinoyard. 

Tmrmimm, "maUm bob ;*' ladiaao fat Maiat. 

Tu um tf m mm, wifo of Wabaa. 

TVAekar, oa Tkaatoa riTor, ia Middleboroagh. 

TWAcrviMM^ ralor ai Natiek. 

Tmmmfmalkkf ohief faehem oa M artka'f Tiaejard. 

jyktftmiOmt paitor of ladiaa ohareh ai IlafiaaaaMtii. 

Iheatf aaeboia of tho Mokofaat. 

Wakm, « tho Wind ;'* Mr. Elioi'f flni ooBTori. 
Wmkfmiutl, ladiaa Tillage ia If ooditoek. 
Wmckmattt a Boaataia ia Priaoetoa, Man. 
IVaflMMT, prajiag towa whore Lowell bow itaadf. 
W«ay«aMf», great tribe la MaMaehaeeits aad Rhode Uaad. 
Wmmfmtg Frayiag ladiaa at NoBaatam. 
W mmp tHwek^ nehea of BralBiree^ aoa of Chlekataabat. 
Wmmtittm, or Aitnmier, loB of Maieafoit, aad MMheai of the W i 
IVoaaeleafitf, nehea of the Pawiaekete. 
W&umgmemHfmnmm^ or Oiflmm 7W, ■ae h e a of the Vipaaeki. 
Wdnmtt, a fliaoai powaw, aad leeead kaihaad of the 8qaaw< 
^^HgraaieiMMiMf , or jaiiRav IreMay eea of Wahaa* 



fTeMeeMi, Bterliag* 
pi^iPMeMigf ^ 9^^^ ^ BreokaoMu 

r, eea of tht ITtw Meea and the Bqaaw 

er SagmmtnMmp tea of tht Haw Meea aad the Bqaaw^ 


r* eniartha*8 Tla^TBid. 


?. //Is 


300 SuminW SW« 


Harvard College Widener Library 
Cambridge, MA 021 38 (61 7) 4g5-241 3 







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